He'll Show Them
by Evil-Irish-Wolf
Summary: --Completed-- The Joker is antsy about meeting Batman. He's been aching for a challenge. Slash! Joker/Batman! The Joker's thoughts when he finally sees Batman and throughout the movie. CHAPTER 8: The Finale and some Ferryboats!
1. He'll Show Them

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. I wish I may, I wish I might! Alas, it all belongs to the lovely folks mentioned before. I think I'll go have a good cry about it.

**Warnings**:** Slash****, as usual.**

--I didn't even see The Dark Knight again. I was just talking to my brother about it, while we were watching Torchwood. Random, I know. And this popped into my head. It's getting worse. My addiction to this fandom and this coupling is worsening. May I should go to a rehab…Nah, I'll just ride it out.

* * *

**He'll Show Them**

**By: EIW**

"_When the chips are down, I'll show ya." –The Joker, __The Dark Knight_

* * *

The Joker had been aching for a challenge.

It's why he'd come to Gotham.

He'd heard about the Bat Man. About how difficult he was making the criminals' lives there, about how he _didn't_ kill people. The fact that people were scared of someone who wouldn't kill them was intriguing. The criminal grapevine of chatter was all about Gotham. The Joker liked to listen to the reports that dribbled in from the surrounding areas. They seemed to all converge on this one city. This one area where apparently, there was a man dressing up as a bat to scare off criminal behavior. But the kicker was that it was working, this is what captivated the Joker. The concept was ridiculous to all sensible human beings, which he had the pleasure of not being associated with, but it was working.

The Joker liked ridiculous.

He was certainly a ridiculous concept on paper. But in all actuality, he scared the living hell out of people. Every person that he'd come into contact with, since before he could remember, had been horrified of him. Maybe they were simply confused at first or perhaps slightly put off by the scars. But they all became horrified after they got to know him, when they got to see first hand, what kind of cards he dealt. The look on their faces was such encouragement. The horror that they felt leaked off them in frantic waves. Their eyes would widen to an almost impossible size. That was his favorite look, the look of pure unabashed fear.

It made him feel all tingly inside.

He'd come to Gotham to seek the Batman and so far he'd been terribly disappointed. Not one sighting! All he wanted was some much deserved attention. It wasn't too much to ask. But the Mob was certainly in the way, he'd dealt with this kind of thing in the last city and the city before that and the city before that...

Crime lords and mob leaders were all the same. They think that they can keep their plans in order, think that their men are loyal, think that they're so powerful that no one would dare cross them. Oh, he'd show them alright. They'd never make the mistake of thinking that their scheming ways could control anything. Not after he was finished with them.

Back to the Batman problem though, so to get the Batman's attention, he'd taken his usual game to the mob. Make them an offer and wait till his chaos brought them begging to his doorstep. His figurative doorstep obviously, he didn't really have a home per say and most certainly not a home with a doorstep. Homes were boring. It wasn't fun knowing where he was going to end up every night. He had what he needed with him at all times; his paint, knives, gunpowder and his other necessities like dynamite and gas were easy to come by. Ergo, a storage facility, such as a house, was completely superfluous, beyond pointless.

The Joker didn't do pointless things.

Everything he did had a reason.

Then Dent had appeared in all his boring suited glory and the Joker couldn't have asked for a better way in. He'd threaten him, Gotham's beacon of light. He'd make a name for himself and go after Dent. Batman wouldn't dare take his chances with Harvey Dent. He was too important to Batman's city. And there just happened to be a party Saturday night, in Harvey Dent's honor.

Perfect.

This is why the Joker never made plans. People made his plans for him as they made their own. It was so easy to turn a plan onto it's self because they were just asking for it, dictating their lives with arbitrary plans and schemes. Someone had to show these people what their problem was. They think that they're living their lives, but all the while, not really _living_.

He'd show them. They'd soon see.

The lackeys that he'd picked up from the street blithered on about something vastly unimportant. He'd shoot them once the job was done. Or maybe he wouldn't. He wasn't quite sure yet. It depended.

Their chatter was beginning to irritate him. His face was only smiling by the good grace of his scars. Maroni's man was looking awkwardly out the window, trying not to stare at him. The Joker could always tell. Not that it bothered him, he was too busy thinking about his upcoming meeting with Batman. He'd have to come. The Joker had killed a commissioner and a judge already today. All that was left was Dent. Or maybe he wouldn't kill Dent just yet. He'd have to see. The Joker never makes plans. It was much more fun to simply see what happened.

They only killed four people on their way into the pretentious building. Well, and the other five who just wouldn't get off the elevator. His clowns had finally stopped twittering as they stepped onto the lift and took their places. The elevator music had a good beat and the Joker tapped his foot to the rhythm, bobbing his head as they ascended up towards the penthouse. He pulled Maroni's man in front, just in case of gun fire. Cops make good shields. With a nice ping, the elevator stopped and the Joker smiled gleefully. He bounced on the balls of his feet in his overexcitement; his laugh was beginning to seep out.

He hadn't been this excited in _ages_.

Straightening his purple suit, the Joker stepped off the elevator as his clowns danced around the people, herding them into the corners of the room. He enjoyed having the center stage; he didn't want to share this moment with anyone. Not this time, not with Batman.

"We're tonight's entertainment." He began. And as expected, everyone lost their minds. A gun shot quieted them down and it was off to business. He searched the room for Harvey Dent, but he wasn't actually looking for the DA. He was straining his eyes to see Batman. Picking at the finger food and gulping down some champagne, he made his way across the room. He admired the shiny floor; it made his reflection look even more horrifying than usual.

It was marvelous.

As always, someone was stupid enough to make a comment and he threatened them with one of his glittering silver knives. The light from the chandelier bounced off the blade perfectly and it made little lights dance around the surrounding air. This room was lovely for using knives.

He more than liked it.

A girl stopped him, a pretty girl, nothing to his fancy of course. She was saying they weren't afraid. Which was a bold faced lie, everyone in the room was frozen stiff in fright. He smiled and stalked towards her. Stupid girl, she didn't understand. He'd show her how afraid she should be, how afraid they all should be. He pulled her close to him and told her a scar story. He liked this story. He used it on quite a few women who where brave or stupid (same things really) enough to get in his way. He had plenty of stories, but this one worked particularly well on females.

She punched him.

Hm…that was different. Not many women had the guts to try that. Maybe he'd _gut_ her. Get it?

She probably wouldn't see the irony.

Pity.

"A little fight in ya, I like that." He said, coming at her again.

"Then you're going to love me." He heard those gruff words spoken right before everything went into slow motion.

He spun around quickly, knowing and hoping that the voice belonged to Batman. He was quickly thrown back by the strength of a punch. Smiling he stood up. Oh yes, this is what he'd been waiting for.

The fight began.

He threw his clowns in the way so that he could see the Batman in action. His strength and style were impressive and true to word, Batman didn't kill anyone. He was spectacular. Smiling with satisfaction, the Joker leapt forward with a few blows and stabbed him with his shoe knife. It didn't stop him. The Joker's smile stretched across his face so tautly that he thought it might burst open.

Oh! He was beyond excited.

He tried to reign in his excitement. He couldn't get too overjoyed just yet, he still had to test Batman's code. See how far he'd go to not kill someone or have someone killed. He grabbed the first person next to him and pulled out the gun. Oh the girl, well she'd get hers now. Funny world isn't it?

He wanted to see Batman's face. He _had_ to see his face. It'd be perfect. Perfect because it had to be, to be that amazingly 'good' the man had to be pretty. It was a fact of life. The Joker was evil and looked the part, so why shouldn't his adversary? His only worthy adversary, oh no, he'd be perfect. The Joker had waited too long for him to come about.

He'd waited his whole life.

Batman declined the unmasking and the Joker thrust the girl out the window. Her feet dangling off the edge, his smile twitched waiting to see what would happen.

"Let her go." His smile grew.

"Very poor choice of words," he said, grinning maliciously.

And he let go.

She fell and Batman looked at him for a moment in absolute shock. It was just for a moment, but it was one of those 'time stands still' moments. Understanding filled the Batman's eyes. Finally, he knew what he was dealing with. They'd found an understanding. Batman's muscles tensed under his suit. The Joker's eyes roamed his form. Oh, yes. His waiting had most certainly paid off.

Batman ran and launched himself fearlessly into the dark night sky. He skidded down the building and dove down after her. The Joker's smile faltered. It had been impressive to say the least, but did that mean that the Batman was Dent? He'd thrown himself after her far too quickly to not know her, a few milliseconds too early, to be precise.

It couldn't be.

Dent's face was all wrong. It wasn't what he wanted. He didn't want Dent as his enemy. That wouldn't work out. Batman was too dark to be Dent. Harvey wasn't nearly perfect enough to be his nemesis, his rival, his opposite.

As he stared into the abysmal darkness, he turned and grabbed some food and pushed the button the elevator forcefully. As the Joker waited for the elevator to reach his floor, he roamed his mind for any similarities between Batman and Harvey Dent. He'd only seen the Bat for a few moments, but the image was already carved into his brain, into his very core, into his soul.

The elevator doors opened quietly and he stepped on. One of his men got up slowly and he shot him quickly. He couldn't be bothered with their idiocy now. He was too focused.

Could Dent be Batman?

No.

His chin was too indented. His eyes weren't dark enough. His body was all wrong. It wasn't strong enough. It wasn't Dent, Batman was Batman, the Joker smiled ghoulishly with relief and stepped off the elevator and into the lobby of the building.

Besides, Dent felt all wrong. Even if he'd only seen Harvey on the television, the Joker knew how Batman had felt and it was not like that. Not at all. He felt slightly ashamed for thinking that Batman was Dent. Batman was far superior to him.

He'd show Batman just how much better he was than all these allegedly 'good' people. He'd show him that it was only him atop that pedestal of greatness. He'd show him that they were perfectly compatible adversaries. So that he'd never be alone in this darkness again. Batman would always have the Joker and vice versa.

This was too perfect not to be a forever thing.

Even as a lover of chaos, he had to admit that destiny was something too powerful to even consider messing with. He had finally found his person, the one person he'd spend the rest of his life with, the one person that he could count on to be there with him through thick and thin. Because Batman wouldn't let someone like him just get away. Wouldn't let him mess with his city and not take action. Batman would be there every time the Joker's games ensued. And Bats wouldn't kill him, so they'd be together forever, forever locked in battle over an insignificant city.

It was a lovely thought.

Thoroughly satisfied with this evening's happenings, the Joker smiled giddily and walked off into the black night. He hummed a random tune that came to him and jumped a bit as he replayed his fight with Batman. He twirled off into the night, laughing in happiness, anticipating his next confrontation with _his _Batman.

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--Hope you like it. Please **review**!


	2. Tis' the Life

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. Not mine, sadly.

**Warnings: Slash, as per usual. J/B!  
**

Okay, so by popular-ish demand this is now a multi-chapter fic, which will follow the Joker's thoughts in other scenes from the movie. I hope that you all enjoy it.

--Now, I've seen the movie 6 times and I am ashamed to say that I couldn't figure out when the Joker next appeared in the movie. Thanks to Ladystrider77, I think it's the killing of Brian, The Batman Look Alike. So, that's what I'm going with. If it's not…I'll figure something out.

Onward we shall go…

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**Chapter Two - Tis' the Life**

**By: EIW**

"_People will die, starting tonight. I'm a man of my word." -The Joker, __Dark Knight_

* * *

This was sure to get Batman's attention.

The real Batman's attention, not the fake one's, not this cheap imitation of the dark knight that was currently sitting, whimpering on the cold floor of the meat warehouse. Blubbering on about his children and his wife and blah, blah, blah…

Like any of that immaterial stuff was going to change his mind. The Joker rolled his eyes at the thought and suddenly jumped forward towards the man, barley missing his shoes. The stomp from the Joker's feet echoed throughout the room and he howled tauntingly at the tightly bound counterfeit Batman.

The Joker hadn't actually touched him, but the man tried to shuffle backwards, crying out incoherently as snot oozed from his nose. The Joker smiled proudly and patted the man's sweat covered head and muttered, "Good boy."

The man flinched away from the touch as if it burned.

The Joker had effectively kidnapped one of the Batman look-alikes. Not that it was in any way difficult. They were amateurs at best, almost child like. They really couldn't even begin to compare to the real thing. This one in particular was all wrong. He was far too fat to even run properly let alone fly, climb buildings, sky dive, dive-bomb tackle people, and fight with the Joker and try to figure out his next move when the clown himself was still deciding. It wasn't work for an amateur. The job of Batman required physical and mental strength. This pitiful man on the floor had neither. The Joker decided that this man wouldn't too look good in the Batman's armored suit either. It took a special kind of man to wear that suit and not look completely ridiculous. The suits that these idiots wore were just plain silly. Average hockey pants and padded "armor" were their only defenses.

It had been _too_ easy to catch these little night rats.

The Joker had let most of them go, of course.

At the moment, the Joker only needed one fake Batman. After all, you never know if the others would come in handy later. Waste ye not. Besides, letting the hostages go had confused his lackey-clowns as well. It was good to keep them guessing, it kept up morale.

* * *

It had been one of his clowns that had informed him that there were actually people dressing up and playing Batman in the first place. This had sent the Joker into hysterics, picturing anyone else wearing that costume was utterly hilarious. His men had tensed up during the Joker's laughing fit. They had heard what happened when he got too excitable. The Joker had recovered and instructed some of his hench-clowns to cause a disturbance. Nothing too riotous, they didn't want the real Batman. Just something that would draw the average night watchmen with a hero complex into action.

His clowns had accomplished this effortlessly. Some of his clowns were little gossipers and they heard that a certain parking garage was a hot spot for fake Batman activity. They'd arrived at the garage before dark, so that they'd get the best hiding spots. As the sun set, a few of the henchmen played around a bit with some little girl they'd found on the street. The Joker kept to the shadows, waiting for the imposters to arrive.

While the Joker was waiting for the Batmen to make their 'grand' entrance, he began to think about these people, these idiots that thought they could actually _be_ Batman. The more that he contemplated on it, the angrier he became. How dare they! Did they really think that they could control the criminals in Gotham as well as Batman did? It was insulting to Gotham's real Batman, _his_ real Batman. He'd teach them to mess with the balance of good vs. evil. They had no right, no stake in this game. This was _their _game.

The Joker was beyond irritated.

He was _furious_ that someone was getting in his way. That someone _dared_ to get between him and Batman. Oh, he'd show them alright. And perhaps, the whole city needed a reminder of what the status quo actually was. Maybe they didn't realize their own insignificance in this game. It was him and Batman in the starring roles. Dent and Gordon were side characters, sure, but nothing essential. They could be replaced. And everyone else, well, they were irrelevant and more than dispensable.

He'd show Gotham why they should be afraid.

Out of the corner of his eye the Joker saw something move. He stiffened and pressed himself flat against the concrete pillar of the parking garage. He evened out his breathing and turned his white painted face away from the glowing yellow lights on the ceiling. He didn't want the 'Batmen' to see his reflection and get scared off. He still needed one of them. The Joker's henchmen, who were completely unaware of the impending 'danger' that lurked in the corners of the garage, continued to mess about with the girl. The Joker counted six phony caped men, placed strategically about the area. After a few moments, the caped men leaped out with guns and began threatening the clowns.

The Joker smiled to himself. Oh, this was too good. This was going to be _so_ simple. They had left their backs open. No back-up, nothing. The hench-clowns that were hidden in the shadows crept up behind the fake bats and held guns to their heads, effectively switching the power roles. The Joker decided to make himself known. He slinked out from his watching place slowly, flipping his greenish hair out from his face and walked towards the circle of now seated bats. He crept towards one of the men and got close to his face, squinting his eyes as if examining him. He stared at him, scrutinizing his features and finally hummed in conclusion.

"I knew it!" The Joker said triumphantly, throwing his arms out in large gesture. "You're not the real Batman are you?" He asked mockingly, ripping off the man's mask. The Joker grabbed the man's chin and moved his head around rapidly.

"Nope, I didn't think so."

His men giggled on cue. The Joker did enjoy them sometimes. They had their shining moments, where he felt so proud. Maybe he wouldn't kill them after all or maybe he would. It was getting difficult to get new recruits, but also didn't want these ones to get used to him. That wasn't important right now.

"Alright, I'm getting sleepy, so let's rap this shin-dig up." The Joker said, wiggling his hips as if he were dancing. He walked around the seated captured men, assessing which one would be the perfect one to use, which one would be the most animated on camera. As he past the fattest one, it made a sound like a kicked dog. Oh, yes! That one would do the job excellently.

He stepped back and pointed to the other five men one at a time, "You, you, you, you and you. Sorry, but you're just not right for the part. Hopefully, you'll try out again next year. You, however," the Joker said with a malicious glint in his eye, "you're going to be the star in my little movie. You'll be the talk of the town!" He finished laughing deliriously.

His hench-clowns picked the man up, with some effort, and threw him into the van.

"The rest of you are free to go. However, if I catch you out here parading about as Batman again. I'll gut you myself." The Joker said cheerily.

The Batmen didn't move a muscle.

The Joker rolled his eyes and pulled out his longest knife. "Care to try me?" He asked deadly serious, dark eyes glinting venomously. The blade of the knife gleamed menacingly against the yellow lighted garage. The men struggled to their feet, still not too sure if they were allowed to move. The Joker jumped quickly at one and yelled, "Ya!" This ripped the men out of their stupor and they ran and stumbled away. His clowns were confused, but made whistling and yelling noises that urged the victims away.

The Joker glanced at the van and then walked towards the closest henchman. He grabbed him by the shoulder and jammed his knife into the man's gut. The Joker twisted the blade in the man's stomach and it made a nice _squish _sound as he pulled it out. The man gasped sharply as dark red blood dripped onto the Joker's brown shoes. He watched with a tilted head as the life drained out of the hench-clown's eyes. The man slumped to the floor and the other clowns stared.

"There wasn't enough room in the van." The Joker said off handedly, as he whipped his now blood covered knife on the man's suit, cleaning it as best he could. He'd have to wash it properly later, to get that shininess back.

The remaining men quickly jumped into the van, leaving the passenger seat open for the boss, who cackled with glee as they skidded out of the garage.

* * *

Now, as the Joker stared at the black clad sham of a Batman, he couldn't help but be repulsed by the man. He walked over and kicked him hard in the ribs repeatedly. His anger from late last night returned thrice fold. He rekindled his mission to show this city what would happen if they didn't leave him and Batman alone. This was _their_ battle. The Joker had waited far too long for it to be mucked up by the inconsequential people of Gotham.

A clown walked into the room slowly, clearly fearing for his life. The Joker had been too quiet today. Nothing good ever happened when he was quiet. Not that anything good happened when he was talkative either. It was a lose, lose situation. The man, barely out of his teenage years, couldn't remember why he'd joined actually. All he knew was that if he did this right, he'd get to live.

He took a deep breath and said, "Uh, sir. We got that video camera you asked for." Taking the device from his pocket, he handed it shakily towards the Joker. The Joker, who was in deep thought, grabbed it and turned away, murmuring quietly to himself. The young man quickly turned about and practically ran out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. As he walked towards the sitting room, a couple of the other clowns patted his back in congratulations, some offered to buy him a drink after 'work.' Not many people went to see the boss alone and got out alive.

He was practically a hero.

The Joker fiddled with the camera, turning it over in his hand. He smiled sinisterly at his captive and got a fussy response. He twirled around a bit, liking the way that his purple coat would whirl around him as he spun. He positioned himself in front of the blubbering man. He looked up from the camera at the sniveling 'dark knight' and said, "Let's see if we can do this in one shot, yea? We wouldn't want to have it look scripted would we? No, no we wouldn't." He finished softly as thoughts swirled around in his head. After he finalized all the camera settings, he paused for a moment. He still wasn't sure exactly what to say. The Joker needed to find the right words to get the desired reaction. It needed to get Batman's attention, which wasn't something that was easily done. His arch-nemesis wasn't always the best attention giver and subsequently, the Joker would sometimes get ignored.

It wasn't good for Gotham when the Joker got ignored. People died, things blew up, Gotham got turned into a general state of disarray until the Joker was sedated with ample amount of the Batman's attentions.

With a quick press to the red button, the Joker turned the camera on and focused the lens on the 'batman's' face. He looked horrified and slightly beaten up. Perfect, the Joker thought to himself, simply perfect.

"Tell us your name." The Joker coaxed with a simpering voice, giggling slightly as the man stuttered out, Brian.

"Are you the real Batman?" He asked jumping slightly from his excitement. His voice catching that giggling tone that would make him sound crazy. It usually scared the hell out of people.

"No."

"No? Then why do you dress up like him?" The Joker finished gruffly and pulled the man's mask off. He dangled it in from of the camera, making 'wooing' sounds. The man was crying again, but he mustered up enough courage to say, "He's a symbol that he we don't have to be afraid of people like you."

"Oh, you do, Brian. _You really do._" He said getting irritated again. Not afraid? Oh, yes some serious work needed to be done to get this city back onboard, back in the game under his rules. They had forgotten their place.

The man was sniffling again.

"Oh, shhh." The Joker hushed him with mock sympathy, whipping the sweat from his purple glove onto the man's chubby cheek

"Look at me, Brian._** Look at me!**__"_ He practically shouted in complete seriousness. The stifled noises from clowns in the other room stopped completely. Dead silence reigned for a few moments, the Joker gained his composure again and swirled the camera to his face.

"You see? This is how _crazy_ Batman's made Gotham." The Joker said smiling a bit. Ah, Batman. Maybe he could work this so that everyone would get what they wanted. By everyone, the Joker meant himself. He could get Batman to feel guilty enough to take off his mask, which would allow the Joker to see that gorgeous face, and get the people frightened enough to get out of the way.

Everyone would win.

"Batman just needs to take off his mask and everything will be fine. Oh, and everyday he doesn't people will die, starting tonight. I'm a man of my word." He said making sure he got his point across before launching into hysterics, imagining the look on his Batman's face when he saw this. The Joker knew that during this video, Batman's entire being would be focused on him. Batman's every thought, every expression, every breath would all be concerning _him. _The thought was electrifying. And bonus, the entire city would go into complete chaos from this simple video.

Today was going to be a good day.

He quickly turned the camera off and grabbed a large meat hook that hung on a long rope from the ceiling. He went forward towards Brian and stabbed it clean through him. He laughed maniacally, feeling his aggression being fulfilled and calmness leak into him. Killing always made him feel calm. It soothed his volatile temper. He still needed Batman to know he was serious though.

As he thought of the perfect place to stash the body, he spun around the man that dangled from the meat hook, pushing him this way and that. The Joker took his purple jacket off, so that he could get better leverage.

"Wee! This is fun, isn't it?" The Joker asked the dead man as he pushed him roughly into a wall, his head cracking against the concrete. A little blood oozed out from Brian's right eye. The Joker liked that cracking sound. It made him cheerful. Just as he began to give Brian another spin, he had a thought.

"Aha!" He shouted, halting his twirling. He'd make sure the mayor knew too. The mayor was always a good target. Batman would surely be keeping an eye on him, especially since he was working so closely with Dent. Now how to get this fat man up there…

He yelled for his hench-clowns. They ran in obediently and looked at him for orders. He loved power sometimes. It made him shiver. He explained to the men what they should do. They got the man off the hook and dragged him out of the room.

"Wait!" The Joker yelled, rushing over. He grabbed the mask that the man had previously worn and his face paint. He put the make-up on the man just as it was on his own face and jammed the mask onto his chubby head. He patted Brian's head affectionately and quickly placed a Joker card on the man's outfit. He signaled for the clowns to take him away, his laugh echoing madly after them.

Later that day, the Joker watched as the rescue crew took the body down. The news caster was actually asking if the Batman was dead. What an idiot! Obviously, that man wasn't the real Batman. Jeeze, this city was full of incompetents. The Joker wondered vaguely what the Batman was doing right now as he watched the news, where he was, what he was thinking.

It was all so dizzyingly fascinating.

The fact that they were both watching this at the same time, thinking of one another. It made the Joker bouncy and fidgety. By the end of the telecast, the Joker was glowing with anticipation, thinking of his next meeting with the dark knight.

His eyes glittered violently with possibilities.

* * *

The Joker walked into the clown's sitting room with his silver knife brandished. They all stared fearfully and some made half-hearted attempts towards the door. He slowly put the knife into his pocket and threw a pack of cards at one of the clowns.

"Anyone want to play?" He said tilting his head questioningly. The men nodded with relief and pulled a table and some chairs up. "The game is poker, gentlemen. Joker's are wild." He finished, grinning at his men as he shuffled the deck expertly.

A very brave soul looked up hesitantly and asked, "So boss, what's next? I mean, what are we going to do about Dent?"

The Joker glanced up from his cards, "Oh, I'm sure that we'll think of something. We always do." He finished gruffly and stared darkly into the other man's eyes.

"Oh, I forgot to mention, the first person to lose this game, loses his life. Maybe I should have mentioned that before." He said grinning happily at them as he watched them sweat. Their eyes darted back and forth from one another, anxiously wondering which one would be the loser.

The Joker propped his legs up on another folding chair and watched the tense game begin. Oh yes, the Joker thought completely content, this was the life.

* * *

Huzzah! There you go. I hope that you all enjoyed it.

**Please review! If you keep reviewing, I'll keep writing!**

--There shalt be more slash next time. Since they'll actually be near one another.


	3. Expendable Plot Device Officers

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. It makes me cry a lot.

**Warnings:_ Slash of the Joker/Batman variety! _**

--So, I dragged myself and little Eibhleann, who is randomly well behaved at movies, to go see Batman again. It was completely for writing research. What's your excuse? I got some inspiration since I had no idea how to begin this chapter. **BTW, Thanks to all those that reviewed the previous chapters. It makes me infinitely happy. I love you! Hopefully, this will live up to expectations.  
**

--Also, Gotham has convenience stores that are something akin to a Wal-Mart, only much smaller. What? It's a made up city anyways. Just go with it.

* * *

**Chapter Three – Expendable Plot Device Officers, Messieurs ****Harvey and Dent**

"_He must have friends!" _

"_Friends? Have you met this guy?"-Batman and Maroni – __The Dark Knight_

* * *

Two unmarked white vans raced violently past one another in the black night of Gotham.

The tires screeched and smoked as the vans fought for the coveted first place position. The metal scrapped together and made a nasty ear cringing noise as the vehicles skid against one another, trying to gain the upper hand. Most people ran quickly out of the way, while the less fortunate were easily mowed down uncaringly by the white automobiles.

One of the vans pulled away and mounted the curb of the sidewalk, wiping out a couple of outside dinning tables fully equipped with adults and children. Red blood splashed across the windshield as the helpless people collided with the van, screaming in vain. The driver hastily put the wipers on, effectively smearing the blood across the tinted glass.

The clown masked men inside the vans cheered and whooped in excitement and triumph.

The race heated up as the finish line was in sight. The van on the sidewalk darted back into traffic, but not before hitting a picnic table with an umbrella. The table slowed the van down slightly, but the driver unhinged it from the bumper of the car expertly. Pieces of wood from the picnic table smashed into the windows of the roadside stores, leaving a trail of shattered glass and carnage behind them. Alarms from the stores blared as the vehicles sped away. The clown in the passenger seat of the van, however, was speared clean through the chest with the umbrella handle that was previously attached to the picnic table. His blood dripped out from the wound and his head sagged forward.

One of the men in the back seat yelled to the driver, "Do you think we'll get extra points for that?" The driver simply smirked under his mask and glanced over at the other van to assess position stance.

In the final moments, the less blood spattered van took the last narrow turn too speedily. The van gave a loud groan and toppled over onto itself, completely upside down. The umbrellaed van sped into the convenience store parking lot and stopped in front of the man with a painted white face, who was laughing hysterically, looking like a tweaked out demented villain.

The men in the winning van jumped out, yelling in celebration. They slapped each other on backs and hopped up and down excitedly.

As the Joker gained his composure, he walked over to inspect the winning van carefully. He hummed and looked skeptical as he studied the van. The men became silent in fear. They never knew if the boss was in a good mood or a bad mood. Not that it made any difference because he tended to kill them either way, but they certainly hadn't seen how they'd done anything wrong. They'd played by the rules, more or less. The boss had promised.

The hench-clowns stared nervously at their boss, anxiously hoping that he'd keep his promise.

After the Joker was done, he spun around and looked at the men. "Well I'm a man of my word, gentlemen." He said in his usual pitch changing voice. His hands gesturing widely. "You all get to live, congratulations." The men erupted into cheers again as the Joker began walking over to the upturned van.

"Oh," the Joker stopped and turned his head in their general direction, looking darkly at them from over his shoulder. Once again the men became deadly silent, "and definite bonus points for the dead body."

"I like the purple umbrella. It's a nice touch. Good show." He said smiling wickedly and twirled around towards the upside down van, humming a random tune. His walk hitched with a bouncy step and he tossed a small object from one hand to the other. Once he got within throwing range, he chucked a small bomb at the upturned van.

It exploded immediately and shards of glass and scraps of metal rained down, littering the now deserted street corner. The Joker stood amidst the rubble. His arms were outstretched and his head leaned back slightly with his tongue stuck out, catching some of the fire flecks from the van wreckage with his tongue as if they were snowflakes.

After a few moments, the Joker seemed to become uninterested in the ash flecks that floated lazily in the air. He glanced around looking quite pleased with himself. A man suddenly crawled out of the remains of the van. He was on fire and was screaming hysterically. The Joker stepped back a few paces and watched with glittering eyes as the man slowly burned. As the man fell to the ground, the Joker slinked closer and watched intently as the he twitched and moaned before laying still, dead. The Joker sat down crossed legged and watched silently in fascination as some of the man's skin that was still burning, clung and melted onto the pavement. The skin around his eye was melted off and the Joker poked his exposed eye, snickering when it dropped out of the eye socket and swung around a bit, still attached to the nerve.

After the fire finally went out, the Joker licked his dry lips and stood up, stretching his limbs and cracking his neck. He motioned for his clowns to follow, all of whom were horrified by what they had just seen. The Joker walked casually towards the convenience store, while his henchmen staggered after him, some taking a moment to throw up from the stench of burning flesh.

The windows of the store were covered with light up liquor signs, ranging from pink to blue and occasionally green. They twinkled beautifully against the night sky and the smoke from the explosions. The Joker liked the eye-catching lights and left them alone as he shot a few bullets into the dark glass doors. He stepped into the store, thick glass crunching under his shoes, and flipped the lights on.

"We're out of supplies, gentlemen. So, I decided to raid this lovely establishment for some more necessities." He said flippantly as he walked away, utterly uninterested in anything that they had to say.

The Joker grabbed a conveniently placed metal cart. He placed one foot on the bottom rail of the shopping cart and pushed off with the other. After he got enough momentum, the Joker pulled his other foot onto the bottom bar of the cart and closed his eyes as it zoomed down effortlessly down the aisle.

He liked the feeling of the rushing wind against his face. It almost made him feel like he was falling, almost. It just didn't give him that nauseating plunging sinking sensation in his stomach. He liked that feeling. He sometimes felt like that when he thought about Batman. It was so intense sometimes that he thought he might actually throw up.

It was glorious.

The cart suddenly stopped as it slammed into a random wall of merchandise. Tubs of liquid dish cleaner spilled onto the floor. The sticky blue substance flooded the aisle and the Joker laughed and shouted something about a clean up on Aisle 4.

The hench-clowns were busily stuffing rope, matches, gloves, and various foods into their hand baskets as the Joker wandered around the store, looking for something to his fancy. He spotted a promising section with shiny lights and metallic graphics of brightly colored fireworks. He smiled giddily and laughed a bit as he shoved multiple items into his shopping cart, bouncing on the balls of his feet in excitement. He loved explosions, especially ones that sparkled.

Perfect, he thought, just what he'd been looking for.

On the way out, the Joker grabbed some pens and lots playing card decks. He went through those very quickly. He should get paid royalties for advertisement. Not that he actually cared about money, but still it would be nice to get some acknowledgment. Completely content and sporting a full shopping cart, the Joker began walking towards the exit. He suddenly had an idea and hastily grabbed the driver clown by the collar and dragged him into the driver's seat of the van, rapidly explaining what he wanted the man to do. The Joker packed all of his supplies into the van and told the driver to begin to drive away.

As expected, his clowns ran out waving to him, trying to get him to wait for them. The van stopped and the hench-clowns hurried towards, but as they got closer the Joker began to light some of his fireworks. He threw a few of the small firecrackers at them, grinning at the sight of them kicking up their feet as if they were doing some sort of awkward dance, and cackling whenever one would hit a clown in the face.

The Joker smiled looking crazed and made the driver continue. The van would move a few feet and the men would follow reluctantly and then get pelted by larger and larger fireworks. They howled in pain and tried to push one another towards the front. One unfortunate clown fell dead onto the pavement with a gut full of sparkling and glittering explosions spurting out of him.

This continued the entire way to the 'secret lair.' Effectively putting their boss in a chipper mood, the Joker had laughed until his throat was raw, and subsequently decreasing the surplus hench-clown population all at the same time.

The Joker thought he was excellent at multi-tasking.

* * *

Batman _still_ wasn't paying attention to him.

The Joker was infuriated.

He couldn't think straight when he was so upset. Not that he thought all that well to begin with, but this was getting increasingly unreasonable. His mind was blocked up. He'd tried killing people. It hadn't worked like it usually did. Batman had some bizarre hold over him. The Joker realized that he wasn't going to be able to think about anything else until he straightened this Batman problem out. He needed a way to get the Batman to notice him, to acknowledge him.

Grabbing at his green tinged hair, the Joker began to mutter to himself. Trying to figure out what would be the best way to get the Bat's attention, his sole attention. Not just some passing glance, oh no, he wanted Batman's entire devotion. It wasn't fair that he was the only one fixated so completely on the other. He'd make the Batman notice him. If it took his entire lifetime, the Joker would get Batman's full attentions.

Harvey Dent, the name floated into his head and fluttered about.

Oh…that could work. It could _more_ than work.

The Joker jumped up from his seated position at the abandoned building and spun about, the dust from his pants swirled in the musty air. He gripped his hair harder, trying to get his thoughts focused and clear. His spasmodic thought process whirled about wildly, winding through certain scenarios, assessing all the possible outcomes. The Joker knew that his thoughts were usually hard to keep quiet. They banged into one another, never stopping and never sleeping. His head was always a buzz with activity, but when it concerned Batman all of his mental processes would pull together. Batman had the power to ease his brain and calm his flurried thoughts.

It was extremely relaxing, almost a _pleasant_ feeling.

Suddenly, a sketchy idea began to come forward. The Joker smiled fiendishly. Oh yes, this would be good. He'd get Batman's attention this time.

He was sure.

He called his few remaining men in and gathered the information he needed. He hurried the clowns out towards the van, brandishing his shimmering silver knife as he threatened them. It always got them moving quickly. This couldn't wait any longer. They sped out towards the city, searching for the apartment building.

As they crept into the building, for once trying _not _to be noticed, the Joker counted the shiny gold address numbers on the doors quietly. Once they reached the door, his men quickly unlocked it expertly. The Joker put his purple gloved hand onto the door handle and twisted it silently.

They slipped in undetected.

Both cops were inside, sitting around a small table, watching a random television program and drinking beer. The Joker grinned and said out from the dark corner of the room, "You know, television will kill ya." The men jumped and whipped around just in time to be shot by the Joker's clowns. His boys then ran about, plundering the other rooms for valuables. The Joker rolled his eyes in aggravation at their pettiness and growled angrily. Hadn't he taught them _anything_? Money and treasures weren't important, but some people he supposed, refused to learn that.

"Go to the van and drive back to the hideout! I'll meet you all there later." The Joker shouted with a gruff demanding voice. It was a tone that shouldn't be taken lightly. The men dropped everything that they were doing and scattered out of the apartment, looking like shamed scared children. The Joker sighed with relief once they were gone; they were giving him a headache with their moronic voices.

He sat down in the remaining chair at the table and drank a swig of beer from an already opened bottle on the table. He leaned back began to count, "1, 2, 3, 4…10, 11, 12…19, 20! POW!" as he uttered the last exclamation and made an appropriate explosion noise, the Joker pressed the red button on the side of the detonator device. A nice rumbling sound echoed up from the basement parking garage where their van was currently parked full of unsuspecting hench-clowns. The thunderous boom shook the building slightly. The Joker smiled with accomplishment and set to work.

He quickly painted the mens' faces, humming a tune as he did. While he dolled up the police officers, he touched up his face as well, dotting some white paint onto the exposed flesh on his forehead. The Joker ran out of red paint for police officer Dent and looked around irritated. He wasn't prepared for this man to have such a large face.

As he glanced around the table, he spotted the blood dripping from the gun shot wound in the man's stomach. The Joker quickly swiped some onto his hand and finished up his make-up job. The cops would be coming soon. Someone had probably called them for the explosion, by perhaps not, it was Gotham after all.

He grabbed the new cards in his pocket and slid them from their deck. He placed them in the men's hands, Joker side up. As he was about to leave, the Joker plopped his newly printed newspaper obituary onto the table. He glanced at it and decided to make some last minute revisions. He quickly grabbed his new pens and started drawing a clown face onto the Mayor's face, scribbling "HA! HA! HA!" across the grey news page, the Joker gathered up his materials.

He heard distant sirens and was just about ready to leave, but something held him back. The Joker eyed the room expectantly, hoping that whatever was bothering him would leap out at him. He didn't have much time. The Joker whirled around to the table and looked again.

"What am I looking for? _**What's wrong**_?" He growled in frustration, scanning the table area carefully. Ah, the paper. What about it though. He'd done the usual, but maybe it needed a special touch. It was Batman after all, he wanted Batman to notice. He had a brief idea and grabbed his red pen tightly and etched the letters XOXO in the upper left hand corner, smiling fittingly he rushed out the door, kicking it closed.

He pulled out a cell phone and made a call to a random number. Giving the address and stating that the police could find Harvey Dent there.

* * *

Finally, Mayor Day had come.

It felt like it had taken forever. The Joker was fidgety. He'd gotten some people from Arkham who wouldn't ask questions to assist. These people were so easy to get on his side. They simply did everything he told them to. It must have something to do with the make-up.

The Joker glanced into the mirror in apartment 1502. The guards were tied up and crying. Everyone always cried. It was annoying. Didn't anyone want to have honor in death anymore? And these men weren't even going to die! People were idiots. The Joker didn't see what Batman's fascination with these _things_ was all about. Why didn't Batman focus on the Joker instead? Hadn't he proved he was more than worthy, a real threat, a perfect rival?

He had proved those things time and time again. Yet, Batman still sat on the sidelines and refused to acknowledge their game. Well, not after today. Today, the Joker was bringing out his finest game. He'd never killed a mayor before. It was exhilarating. His hands felt all tingly just thinking about it, about the panic that would ensue just after the shot landed and the insecurity of the government system, and of course, about the anger and intensity that Batman would feel towards _him_.

He finished buttoning his blue police suit and grabbed his gun. Not his weapon of choice, but it would do. The man from Arkham followed behind him giggling at times, but was stone silent once they got into the ranks. The Joker tried to keep his smile under control. He kept his face in the shadow of his hat and away from prying eyes.

The mayor spoke about something or other. The Joker wasn't listening, he was busy watching for the shadow in the window with the tied up guards. He'd set it up so that Batman could watch the show. He stared at the window, noticing that the shadow wasn't shaped like Batman. It didn't have a mask or a cape. It took a moment for the reality to set in…

Batman had come _without _his uniform and the Joker was missing it!

He was missing the chance to see Batman's true face. The pretty face that the Joker was sure was under all that black armor. The Joker was disconcerted, his breathing was slightly erratic. His eyes darted from the mayor and back towards the window constantly. He was confused about what he wanted. He wanted to see Batman's face; he _needed_ to see his face. But he wanted to make sure that Batman knew how serious the Joker was, how determined he was to devastate this city, to gain Batman's attention. It was with a horrible twang of irony that the Joker realized that not only did Batman not have a mask, but the Joker himself wasn't wearing any make-up either. He almost laughed at the painful realization, but pulled himself somewhat together as the sound began to escape his throat.

After a few more seconds of apprehension, the Joker decided that he'd have to wait, wait to see what lay under that mask, and wait to see what his rival really looked like.

He'd missed the chance anyhow. There wasn't any way that he could make it back in time without getting caught. The mayor's speech was closing. The Joker made an effort to pay attention to that instead of the opening shutter that would whip open in a moment, trying not to take a peek at the window that would unveil the true identity of Batman. It would only distract him. He took a steadying breath and set his dark eyes on the mayor, taking all of his anger and exasperation from this situation and focusing it on the task at hand.

It was almost time, just a few more seconds…and…BANG!

The Joker dropped his gun and ran into the distressed and confused crowd. Lowering himself and running towards a deserted area, glancing around at the panic. His insides were aflutter with excitement. He gained speed once he was away from the stampeding city folk. Once he was safely in a dark ominous alleyway, the Joker threw his hat off and unbuttoned his coat, running a hand through his hair, thinking deeply. He'd get another chance, he assured himself. After all, Batman was sure to be attentive now.

There wasn't any other option. The Joker hadn't given him a choice this time. It was pay attention or lose the city. There wasn't any other alternative.

The Joker smiled impossibly wide and slunk off into the setting sun of Gotham, greatly anticipating his next tumble with Batman. His thoughts were going into a fervor just thinking about it, jumping back and forth between different circumstances. His heart began to beat hurriedly and his hands began to tingle again.

He simply couldn't wait.

* * *

I hope that you liked it. Please** _review_**_! _It's what keeps me writing!_  
_

**And I kid thee not, in the Harvey and Dent scene it literally has XOXO written in the upper left corner of the newspaper in red ink. I know! It's awesome. No Joke!! Go see it if you don't believe me! It only shows it for a second, but I squealed! Literally, squealed, people stared, it was sufficiently awkward, but I didn't care. Because my pairing if F-ING cannon! Suck it!!**


	4. The Idea

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. Life's just not fair.

**Warnings:**_** Slash! J/B! It's horrifyingly sexy and you love it.**_

--Thanks to all my lovely reviewers! I heart all of you. You make my world spin.

--These chapters seem to keep getting longer and longer. We're rocking about 4,800 words this time. Oh, and every time that I see the movie I'm always impressed when they flip the semi-truck (lorry for the Brits). Every _single_ time, I'm like, "ohhhh. Now that's just neat!"

* * *

**Chapter 4 – The Idea**

**By: EIW**

"_You wanted me, here I am." – Batman, __The Dark Knight_

* * *

Harvey Dent…

That name just kept popping up everywhere. Now they were saying, well, now Dent was saying that he was Batman. That he was the one who had put away almost half of the criminals in Gotham, that he was the one who had taken Scarecrow down, that he was the one who could actually rival the Joker.

Harvey Dent was _not_ Batman.

But why would Batman let Dent take the fall for him? The Joker thought at the fuzzy television screen, staring at it as if it would provide the answers. It didn't make sense. The Joker knew that Batman would never really turn himself in. He couldn't let his city stand unprotected, while he was in jail and the Joker was wandering the streets. The Joker spun around the small room, thinking about what could be going on, what was Batman playing at?

…playing?

That was it!

The Joker's eyes widened as he realized that Batman was _playing_. He was _**playing**_ with _him_! The Joker bounced on the balls of his feet feeling completely elated. Bats had finally decided to join in. He was trying to get a hold of the Joker for all his misdeeds and for all the harmful things he'd done to Batman's city, like killing all those people and blowing things up. It had all paid off! All of his hard work was finally being rewarded. The Joker was bursting with laughter. He laughed until his throat was sore and raw. His sides ached painfully from the strain and his ribs throbbed in protest, but the Joker just kept on laughing.

The clowns in the other room stared at the closed door where the laugh was emitting from for a few moments. Then they slowly backed away, throwing hesitant looks at one another. They'd never heard the boss laugh like that. It was loud and it was changing pitch every few seconds. It was uncontrollable and insane sounding. The clowns wondered what could have happened to make their boss so…excitable.

* * *

Three lines of clowns stood tensely side by side. Only their eyes dared to dart around, assessing where their boss was and what was actually going on. The boss had been acting strangely all week, well more strange than usual. He hadn't killed any of the hench-clowns. This small miracle should have put them at ease; however, it only served to make them excessively paranoid, to the point that some of them couldn't even sleep properly. Their hands would become sweaty in his presence and their limbs would shake violently. They practically cowered when he was near.

As much as it would have pleased the Joker to see this, he barely noticed.

He was much too focused on this _idea_ that had come to him in the middle of the night. He'd been trying to figure out the best way to get the Batman near him. The city was in terror and petrified about what he'd do next. They were barely holding onto their pathetic societal system. The city's future swung on the whims of the Joker and Batman's battles, their never ending war.

The Joker finally had everyone right where he wanted them. Batman was standing watch over him. He was straining for any sign of him, itching to get a glance of the Joker's overly painted face. The Joker could _feel_ him watching. It was supremely gratifying and made his hands tremble.

Now all he needed was the perfect setup. It wasn't really a plan. Plans required everything to be overly detailed. Every movement, every action, every breath was premeditated, deliberate. The Joker didn't want that. It wasn't fun knowing what was going to happen.

But he couldn't just wander into the streets and hope for the best either. He needed a rough idea, a simple outer shell of a diagram, a base to launch from. Just a sketch really, and then later, he'd fill in the boring black and grey lines with color and ornate details as they came to him, as they fell into place.

The Joker giggled excitedly. His brain was working overtime, coming up with new and more intricate ideas, all of them involving Batman. His brain was roaring with vague half-formed thoughts and ever changing situations. He could barely decide on what to do. He'd come up with so many interesting ideas, new ideas. Ideas he'd never tried before. Batman had that effect on him. He made creativity and inspiration flow out of the Joker. It was really something else.

The Joker grabbed a piece of paper that was lying on the desk in front of him. They'd taken over a small office building. There had only been five people working there. It was some sort of charitable organization. There were pictures of children smiling with the worker people that he'd killed earlier that week, the people whose bodies were being held down by rocks at the bottom of the lake. Well, they weren't smiling now. And honestly, who did anything for free anymore? This city was full of idiots, the Joker thought in exasperation, rolling his eyes at the stupidity. He had no idea what Batman saw in them.

The Joker rummaged through the desk, looking for a pen to write with. After dumping a few drawers out, effectively scattering random objects across the floor and creating a large mess, the Joker finally found a black pen. Not his favorite color, it was too dull for him, too boring. But it reminded him of Batman, so it would do. Batman had a thing for black. He hastily scribbled some barely legible things that he wanted his henchmen to get.

The Joker hated lists. They were too ordered and plan-like. But for Batman, he'd make an exception, just this once.

The Joker slammed open the office door. The glass from the windowed door shattered at the force, falling to the floor. The Joker scooped up a hand full of the glass and chucked it at one line of his hench-clowns, laughing merrily at their evident pain. They flinched aside, but still lined back up as soon as the glass stopped being thrown at them. He'd told them not to move and they hadn't. They all seemed a bit more on edge then usual, but the Joker didn't care. They were expendable and as long as they did their jobs, he'd let them live. At least until he saw Batman, of course. After that, all bets were off.

Nothing else mattered except Batman.

He gathered his thoughts together and tried to focus on his hench-clowns, giving them a good looking over. He'd just gotten these ones. Most of them were fresh from the dark grimy streets of Gotham.

Ah, the Joker thought happily to himself, the smell of new recruits in the morning. He took a moment to relish in the unabashed fear that melted off some of the clowns. He grinned maniacally and stalked up and down the rows, stopping every few feet to stare darkly or smile at a few of them. He didn't know which facial expression scared them more. To one especially scared looking clown, he suddenly jumped into the man's personal space and yelled, "Boo!" The man yelped and scampered backwards, staring wide-eyed at the Joker, looking like a frightened small child instead of a hardened criminal.

The Joker walked to the center of the room, happy with the results of his assessment of the ranks. "Alright, ladies, tonight I need you do some shopping for me." The Joker said loudly, his wavering voice echoed slightly in the silent room.

"You see this list? I need everything on it. _**Everythin**_**g!** Do you understand? If I have one item missing, I'll blow your intestines out of your body and hang you with them from the rafters. Are we clear?" The men nodded hastily and looked at one another in alarm.

The boss was never this serious. He was always giggling and laughing, which in itself was frightening, but this side of him was beyond terrifying. His voice was gruff and loud and his eyes were glowing with such intensity that it felt like pin pricks every time that the Joker made eye contact. The clown with the most seniority went forward and received the list, looking just as nervous as the newer recruits. He stared at the piece of paper and then began ripping the list into pieces, dispatching different people to get different items.

The clowns went about their tasks silently. As they were about to leave, the Joker looked over at them and shouted harshly, "Make it _**fast! **_No dawdling."

The Joker watched them skid off into the sunlight of the hot afternoon. Now all he had to do was wait for his men to bring him all his shiny new toys. Waiting was not something that the Joker did well, especially when it involved a plan with Batman. He was too excited to sit patiently.

The Joker's heart was beating uncontrollably. It pumped harshly in his chest. His paint smudged hands were tingling. He just couldn't stop fidgeting; his foot was tapping a random beat against the ugly orange carpeted floor. His teeth were gnawing on his bright red painted lips, probably drawing blood, but the color was too similar to the paint to actually tell.

The Joker spun languidly in his chair, his long legs pushing gently against the carpet in an attempt to gain momentum and get a longer and faster spin. This is what he'd been waiting for since he'd first come to Gotham; a showdown with the Batman, just the two of them, no one interfering.

The Joker was shivering in anticipation.

* * *

As the hench-clowns began to return, the Joker jumped up from his spinning chair and stumbled slightly. His legs were stiff from lack of movement. He'd hadn't realized that he'd been sitting there that long, glancing out the window he noticed that the moon already hung highly in the sky. His excitement peeked and he dashed forward. It was almost time. The Joker leapt over a few overturned filing cabinets before he pushed forcefully on the door that led to the garage.

Standing in front of him were his smiling clowns and some brand new shiny trucks. Well, the fire truck was shiny. The garbage truck was smudged and battered from years on the job, but the Joker loved it anyway. The semi-truck was huge. It would definitely fit them all in, and since it was so large, it would inevitably cause massive amounts of damage.

The Joker spun happily in place, cackling with glee.

Gaining his composure, the Joker noticed that some of his men weren't wearing their regular clothes. He looked at them with his head tilted questioningly, scowling slightly. The men fidgeted under the look and one managed to murmur out, "We thought it'd help if we looked the part."

The Joker smiled giddily upon realizing that his little clowns were trying to please him by dressing up as firemen, sanitation workmen, truck drivers and other various civic laborers. Then he noticed a bright red painted 'S' on the large truck. The Joker smiled in a satisfied way. His clowns were trying to be funny. It was almost cute. "Nice touch, boys." The Joker said, his voice giggling madly.

The clowns smiled proudly at their small accomplishment. Much like a child would when praised by a parent. The Joker decided that after tonight he'd probably have to kill them all for letting them see this side of him and for having such a disgustingly touching moment. It almost made him upset to think about losing these ones.

They were his favorites.

Oh well, more would come. They always did. The Joker was a magnet for crazy criminal types. Not that he minded. He was quite partial towards them as well. They were his kind of people.

* * *

The fire truck glowed radiantly in the night as it became a blazing inferno with cackling orange flames shooting out of it. The Joker laughed hysterically as he and the semi-truck driver swerved and weaved in and out of traffic, trying to get into position and cause the least amount of damage. They didn't want to attract attention just yet. The Joker was almost bouncing in his seat in excitement, whipping his head about every few seconds, hoping to catch a glimpse of the Batman.

The radio broadcaster stated that Harvey Dent was finally being transported from his holding cell and was being driven away in an armored truck at this moment. The Joker was delighted about how helpful the newscaster had been. Maybe he should write them a thank-you note or something. His boys came over the walky-talky a few moments later describing the exact amount of SWAT and police vehicles that were accompanying the 'Batman.'

The Joker was tired of all these people claiming to be the real Dark Knight. Still, he found himself smiling at the name. It was his favorite nickname for Batman. He'd read it in the newspaper a few days earlier and it had caught his attention. They usually came up with stupid things to call him, but the Joker thought that this one was more than appropriate, the Dark Knight of Gotham, _his_ Dark Knight.

It certainly had a nice ring to it.

The Joker and The Dark Knight, forever fighting over Gotham city, not that the Joker actually cared about the city, he was here for Batman, plain and simple. If Batman left, the Joker would follow. He'd follow Batman to the end of the Earth. The Joker honestly hoped it would come to the end of the world, just the two of them, standing in all that carnage and fire. It made the Joker tremble and sent his stomach aflutter.

The Joker suddenly nudged the semi-driver and the man honked the obnoxious horn repeatedly. They had to get this cop out of the way. He didn't want the police to have any warning that something was amiss until they were all in place. This had to go perfectly. It was his first real chance to show Batman what he could do. The Joker smiled as the police officer walked over and he leaned back into his seat, so as to not cause overt attention.

"You'll have to wait like everyone else, pal." The officer said in an irritated voice. The Joker pushed forwards, cocked his gun and fired a shot into the man's face. His head exploded and small pieces of brain matter and flaps of skin splattered across the side door of the truck. The hench-clown laughed and the Joker motioned for him to get on with it. They drove towards the tunneled road where the convoy would be detoured thanks to the conveniently placed fire truck.

* * *

The Joker's seat belt cut viciously into his chest and into the side of his neck as they smashed into the SWAT team's van. It made a violent splashing noise as it hit the water. He quickly pressed the red button on the seat belt clicker and leapt into the back of the semi-truck. His boys were talking excitedly to one another and some were lying on the floor due to the impact of the crash. The Joker was buzzing with adrenaline and seeping with delight.

This is what he'd been waiting for. He was in his element.

Suddenly, another crashing noise outside stopped all the hench-clown's chatter. After a few seconds of silence, the clowns whooped with joy as they heard the police siren's screech fade away. The Joker grinned viciously and grabbed the handle to the sliding door and rolled it back. The night wind whipped fiercely at his face and the smell of exhaust and gasoline blinded his senses. Oh, tonight was going to be a good night, he thought grinning deliriously.

The armored car that Dent was in was pushed quickly into view by the garbage truck. The Joker held out his hand expectantly and one of his clowns gave him a gun. He fired a few shots into the car, knowing that it wouldn't penetrate the steel rimmed walls. He just wanted to scare Harvey Dent a little. A shot gun was handed to him next and the Joker once again began firing away at the car. He liked the sound that the bullets made against the metal. It magnified the bang from the gun exponentially. He thought that it added to the atmosphere of the chaotic night wonderfully.

The Joker turned around and planted himself in a firm kneeling stance. He grabbed the bazooka. This was his kind of gun. It created an explosion. The Joker liked explosions. He got the gun loaded with the heavy ammunition and fired at the police car behind the armored van. It blew up and the Joker felt the searing heat from the eruption. It stung his face a bit and the Joker closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the stinging sensation as it shimmed it's way throughout his body, sending a shiver down his spine. His white painted forehead was beginning to sweat, leaving a stretch of skin exposed. His ears rang from the deafening noise that the gun made when it fired. The Joker's grin stretched to its physical constraints and he giggled.

This was _too_ much fun.

As he was about to fire the next shot, a black car-tank sped past the van and slammed into the garbage truck that had been keeping the armored van in range of the Joker's guns. The Joker hummed in thought. It was certainly a brutal car that Batman drove. It had smashed the hell out of his garbage truck. Oh well, he still had his bazooka. The Joker quickly got the gun loaded again and aimed it unstably as the truck lurched and zigzagged through traffic. The Joker smiled to himself as he pulled the trigger.

Out of nowhere, Batman's car jumped into the air and blocked the blast. The explosion rippled and shook the entire underground road. The chase stopped for a moment. The Joker was hanging on to a strap from the roof as the truck braked rapidly. He was still glancing around for Batman, that wouldn't have killed the hero. It probably didn't even hurt him. He was practically invincible. The Joker liked that about him. He could play as hard as he wanted with Batman and he wouldn't break. Fate had certainly scrounged him up the perfect nemesis.

They were simply meant to be.

The semi-truck came to a screeching halt. The Joker vaguely wondered where Batman had gotten a flying car from. It was just neat. The armored car began to drive away and the Joker stuck his head into the driver's compartment to see what the problem was. They should have been moving by now.

Seeing that the driver was unconscious, the Joker rolled his eyes and pushed the guy out of the way. Chanting a song about Harvey Dent and asking very politely if he could drive. His mother had taught him to have manners. Or at least he thought she had, but he couldn't be sure. His mother wasn't important anyway, if he even had one at all.

He highly doubted it.

Hastily throwing the man out of the truck, he revved up the engine and followed the armored car. The Joker was grinning manically and laughing in overexcitement at the way this night was playing out. Everyone was putting on such a good show. He kept scanning the side streets, waiting to see what Batman was going to do now that his car was almost completely destroyed. The Joker knew that he'd come up with something. Batman was too inventive not to.

A helicopter was flying in the sky, making an irritating whooshing noise. The Joker called his hench-men over the radios telling them to take care of it. He giggled slightly as the chopper came closer to the wire lines. After a few moments, the helicopter began to spin uncontrollably, shattering the tall windows of the skyscrapers and raining shards of glass and debris upon the streets below. Finally, it landed right in front of the armored truck, breathing fire into the windshield. The Joker was giggling feverishly. It was all going perfect.

The armored van stopped a couple blocks away. The Joker knew that it was almost time. Then out of a side alleyway, Batman came rushing out in all his caped glory. The Joker's heart beat hitched. It was all falling into place the Joker thought, bouncing in his seat. The Batman was on some sort of motorcycle. The Joker had to smile at the Batman's vehicle choices. He was so ostentatious sometimes. He couldn't have a simple motorcycle. Oh, no! It had to be a black monster wheeled motorcycle with cool gadgets and who knows what else.

"Oh, you wanna play. Come on." He taunted Batman as he started driving straight towards the large semi-truck. The Joker was insanely happy at this moment. He had Batman's full attention. His eyes were only on him. It was a magnificent feeling. Then Batman dipped underneath the Joker's truck. The Joker replied with a, "he missed," before his semi-truck was violently pulled vertically.

"Oh."

The Joker managed to say before the semi-truck gave a loud groan and smashed into the hard pavement. The Joker was blank for a few moments as he regained his senses. His head hurt, his brain was pounding against his skull, blurring his vision. It must have cracked into the windshield. He pulled small bits of glass from his forehead and arms. Realizing the situation, the Joker hastily grabbed his gun and began to wiggle out from his awkward position. Injured or not, he wasn't missing his fight with Batman. He pushed out from the shattered passenger window and struggled to gain his bearings. He began to take a step, but tripped on the glass and fell.

Ouch, he thought and picked himself back up, cracking his sore neck.

The Joker saw Batman parked a few blocks away. He stared intensely at the figure. They were finally going to have at it. The Joker began to walk forward and Batman revved his motorcycle engine. A few cars were still driving about. What made them think that was a good idea was beyond the Joker. They had obviously missed the flaming helicopter, the glass in the street, the upside down semi-truck, Batman himself, and the crazy clown toting a gun. If they had missed all of that, the Joker thought that they were just asking for it.

Honestly, some people.

A car drove directly into his line of vision and he shot them down quickly. He didn't have time to deal with anyone getting in his way of Batman. He'd waited too long, _way_ too long. He was getting closer. The Joker was shaking slightly in anticipation.

"Hit me. Come on, hit me."

He was so close to Batman. His presence was overwhelming. The Joker could hardly breathe.

"I want you to do it."

Getting frustrated that everything seemed to be going in slow motion the Joker shouted, "**Hit me!**" one last time. He heard Batman yell as they got into audible range with one another. The Joker's heart was almost bursting through his chest. The closer Batman came, the more viciously his heart pounded.

The Joker hadn't had any of that addicting physical contact for weeks. Not since Dent's party and even then he'd only gotten punched a few times. It was driving even crazier than he already was. His body was practically screaming for some kind of touch, any kind of touch. He just wanted to be near Batman again.

At the last moment, Batman swerved out of the way and skid towards the semi-truck. He smashed into it and the force from the impact threw him to the ground. The Joker clicked his tongue in interest. He'd actually thought that Batman was going to hit him for a moment there. At least they were both out of toys now, it was an even footing.

His clown from the back of the semi-truck rolled Batman over. The Joker wondered vaguely how that one clown had survived the flip, but his attention was quickly diverted to Batman again. He began to walk forward with a slight hitch in his step, humming a random beat. His clown suddenly got shocked from Batman's suit and the Joker jumped over and hit him, howling in his face and spitting on him for good measure.

No one touched Batman except the Joker.

He grabbed Batman's head and was about to pull off that mask and see his gorgeous face when a gun was cocked and cool metal was pressed onto his head. "Could you _please _just give me a minute?" He practically whined in protest. The Joker savored the last moments of contact between himself and Batman before he was pushed off and rolled on the ground. He'd been _so_ close, but at least they'd got to play. The Joker was happy with that.

Lieutenant Gordon pulled off the mask and the Joker stared at him unimpressed as he said, "We got you now, you son of a bitch." The Joker looked away from the cop in disinterest and leaned his head against the black pavement, closing his eyes.

"I was so close." He murmured quietly, softly banging his head against the pavement in irritation. A band of officers pulled him up and dragged him towards a police car. He wondered if they'd put the sirens on. He liked the noise that they made. The Joker pulled back as they tried to jam him into the blue and white police car. He saw Batman lying there, but he was getting up with the help of Gordon.

The Joker felt a stab of jealously weave its way into his veins. No one was supposed to touch Batman except for him. The police officers finally got him into the car and he leaned his head against the cool glass and stared out into the devastated street. He grinned slightly at the complete desolation of the area. His eyes quickly found Batman again, who was now pushing Gordon's arm off of him. Probably telling him he was fine. Batman was proud and stubborn like that.

The Joker couldn't help but smile happily. He'd mess with Gordon later for touching Batman, for getting in the way. But for now, the Joker was content with watching Batman disappear down an alleyway, cape whooshing dramatically behind him, and Dent make absurd comments about going home to his girlfriend.

Yea, like it was going to be that simple.

They must think that he was an idiot or something. Like he was going to give up that effortlessly, Dent was far too easy to use against Batman and that girl… Well, she just couldn't be allowed to live anymore. She was getting in the way far too much. Always showing up and distracting Batman, tearing the Bat's attention away from him. It couldn't be allowed to happen anymore. The Joker had finally captured Batman's _full _attentions and, so help him, it would continue to stay that way.

Tonight had been impossibly perfect, blowing things up, shooting down police cars, flipping over trucks, setting fire to various vehicles, and fighting with his arch-nemesis. Oh yes, the Joker could see him and Batman doing this the rest of their lives.

The Joker began to laugh wildly as he heard the sirens switch on. It had truly been a great night.

* * *

-Please _**review!**_ Even if it's a Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma'am kind of review. It keeps me in line and updating : )


	5. The Interrogation Scene

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. If I had made this movie, there would have been making out in the following scene, which is lacking a good man/man snog. We all know Ledger and Bale would've been game.

**Warnings:**_** Slash!**_

--So, every time that I see the part where they're laying out all of the Joker's knives and whatnot, I always think about **Dallas W.**'s vortex line. I mean that's a lot of pointy things that he's carrying. I think **Dallas** is onto something.

--Without **SaJi**, this wouldn't have been possible. She gave me the entire transcript of this scene. Seriously, she's all kinds of wonderful. **Ladystrider77 **should be thanked for listening to my ranting. She has the patience of a saint and sent me happy things that made me giggle, while I had a mental breakdown from writing this chapter. Not a joke.

--I have finally written _**The**__** Scene**_, you know the one. I hope that it lives up to your expectations. So without further ado, I present to thee, the sexiest slashiest interrogation scene in cinema history.

**This is dedicated to my regular reviewers, and the newer ones too, but especially to the people who've stuck with me. The ones who've been _begging _for this scene since the beginning. This is for you, my lovelies.**

* * *

**Chapter 5 – The Interrogation Scene**

**By: EIW**

"_And here we...go." – The Joker, __The Dark Knight_

* * *

They'd taken all of his knives.

That's what irritated the Joker the most. He loved his knives. He always felt awkward without them, vulnerable, weak. It made his stomach tie itself into knots, pulling and pushing his already flurried nerves to the brink, making him feel constricted and helpless. The Joker didn't like that feeling.

The other parts of this situation didn't really bother him. He'd been through this whole police deal before, the pictures, the finger printing, the dental sample, the blood sample. He'd done this too many times to count. Did they actually think that they were the first ones to catch him? Did they actually think that they'd find something the others hadn't? These people had some major egotistical issues to work out.

The police officers stared at him like he was some sort of exotic animal in a cage. At first, he'd stared back at them, which unnerved many and caused them to look away. However, after the first hour of that, it became boring and the Joker had taken to glancing around the prison area, assessing the size and shape of everything, checking where the exits were and whatnot. He needed to know where everything was when the time came.

Like he was going to stay in _here_, when Batman was out _there_, the painted clown rolled his eyes at the thought.

These officers would never see it coming. He grinned crookedly and craned his neck up as a new door opened across the room. He wanted to know what was inside. Just to be sure that he wasn't missing anything good and it was always nice to have some more exit options. This place was chock full of easy way outs. It was going to be mind-bogglingly simple to escape.

The Joker sat quietly in the holding tank, watching a drug addict wonder about aimlessly, talking to himself. Occasionally, he'd flinch away from something only he could see and scamper backwards. It was highly amusing. The guy was completely oblivious to him, which was something that usually didn't happen and the Joker reveled in the opportunity to watch someone who was clearly in a place beyond this reality. The Joker wondered if he looked like that to 'normal' people.

Minor criminals stalked back and forth in the cell behind him, trying to look tough and dangerous. Once they saw that the Joker was staring at them, they quickly averted their eyes and walked towards the farthest corner, glancing at him every few moments. The Joker enjoyed his overlooked position of power. Everyone was afraid of him, even when he was locked in a cell and surrounded by thirty or so police officers. He must be doing something right.

He gazed about the room, which was buzzing with activity, looking slightly spaced out. This only added to his creepy persona, making people all the more wary of him. Glancing at his hand, the Joker noticed that the ink was still clinging to his fingers from when he got printed earlier. It was black and sticky, the Joker thought, his nose twitching a bit in disgust. The man that had done it had been hesitant to touch him. The Joker had smiled his most sinister grin and stared directly at the frightened officer, leering closely, making the cop sweat profusely.

It was extremely fun to mess with people.

The Joker hoped that his clowns were doing their part. It shouldn't be too difficult. He'd done all the pre-work himself. The Joker had always wanted to be a surgeon. At least, he thought that he did, but he could've been mistaken. Either way, it had been fun cutting that man open and sticking C-4 and other explosive materials inside him. Blood had squirted out in various directions and he felt the man's squishy slimy organs as he moved them about. He probably should have worn gloves, but he'd wanted to feel a person's insides without any sort of barrier. It had been exhilarating to hold someone's life in his hands. The Joker was slightly envious of the Arkham Asylum patient. He'd often wondered what it'd be like to have an explosion blast inside of him. He bet it'd feel glorious being ripped open by that fiery blast.

Suddenly, the very same patient was pushed into the cell with him and the tweaked out druggie. They were an interesting bunch to say the least. He started saying something about his stomach hurting. Of course, no one listened, which is exactly what the Joker had intended to happen.

Oh, this was _too _simple.

With out warning, Gordon burst into the room in all his tussled haired glory, yelling orders and looking at the Joker in apprehension. The Joker could see the wheels turning furiously in Gordon's head. He finally understood what they were dealing with. The Joker wasn't some lunatic, scrounging about without a grip on reality. Oh no, the Joker knew what was going on. He knew and he was actively working against the societal system, turning the city onto itself, and trying to undo all of their hard work. This wasn't something that Gordon could handle, it wasn't something that the police could handle.

The only man that could handle the Joker was already doing everything he could to stop him. But so far, nothing that Batman had done was working. The Joker could see the desperation and anxiety that lurked in Gordon's eyes. It made the Joker smile. Finally, the police hero was beginning to understand the complexity and severity of the situation. The Joker liked desperate men. They were easy to manipulate. They were always one push away from doing something rash, something stupid. And the Joker would be there when he did, smiling and laughing as the city fell into the swirling dark pit of hell that it'd worked so hard to crawl out of.

Apparently, the police station was the place to be because suddenly, the mayor decided to grace them with his presence. He'd finally come out of his home. He'd locked himself up in his mansion ever since the assassination incident. The Joker found it was amusing that the mayor thought that he was important enough to warrant another visit. The Joker never did the anything with the same person more than once.

Well, except Batman, but that was obvious. He was _Batman_. He was the only constant in the Joker's life. They were fated. It was as simple as that. Nothing would ever change that. Unless he died, in which case the Joker would quickly follow; there wouldn't be anything for him to do here without Batman. He wouldn't be needed without his opposite. Darkness can only exist when there is light and vice versa. If one died, the other couldn't live. There was nothing to be done about it. That's simply the way it was.

The mayor was talking about something. The Joker strained his ears to listen. It could have been something important, probably not, but it could be.

Oh, a new commissioner.

The Joker had thought that it might have been about Batman. It was alright though. He clapped politely anyway. If the Joker had his way, and he _always_ did, Batman would soon be swooping in here worried about Dent's safety and that girl's as well. It didn't matter what happened tonight, that girl was going to die. Nothing could stop that, not even Batman. She'd gotten too close, _far_ too close. She was a distraction and a nuisance. He'd fix her. She wouldn't get in their way again.

"The clown will stay till morning."

No, the clown wouldn't.

The Joker thought slightly annoyed. This Dent thing was taking forever to get off the ground. These cops certainly were incompetent. He could see why Batman had to do everything himself. It must make him depressed at times. At least Batman had someone on his level to play with now, someone who could challenge him, someone who could understand him. That must count for something. The Joker knew that he was certainly content with his life now that he had Batman. It had been so dull messing with the various mobs in all the random cities.

He wouldn't trade this for anything. Maybe he should tell Batman that. So that he'd understand that he wasn't _alone_. That the Joker would always be there, waiting and doing things. Egging him on, always playing, always watching, and always being _there_. They were fixed opponents. Nothing could stand between them.

But back to the present, they were certainly taking their sweet time trying to figure out this whole Dent situation. Not that the Joker actually cared. He personally hoped that they wouldn't discover it until it was too late. It'd be much more interesting that way. Batman wouldn't have to leave quite as soon if there wasn't anything to be done. He'd have more time to convince the man to hit him, punch him, something, _anything_.

Gordon walked out the door, glancing back unsurely, knowing in the deep recesses of his mind that something wasn't right, that something was very wrong. The Joker gave him one last malicious smile as the newly appointed commissioner walked away into the night, trying to get home to see his wife. The Joker hoped that as soon as Gordon got into his wife's arms that he'd get the call about Dent.

Just so he knew what it felt like to be _so_ close to that _person_ and then have it all ripped away, just as Gordon had done to the Joker earlier that night. Gordon would soon get the bitter taste of withdrawal in his mouth, a taste that the Joker still hadn't managed to spit out. He had finally gotten to look Batman in the eye and then he'd been so close to seeing his face and then…_nothing_. He'd been pushed into a police car and driven away. The night hadn't been totally worthless though, the Joker had found out something useful.

Batman had brown eyes.

* * *

The handcuffs cut harshly into the Joker's bony wrists.

They were silver though. He liked shiny silver things. The room that they'd brought him into was rectangular and brick. Ah, an interrogation room. They must have finally figured out that Dent was missing. Took them long enough, they only had about hour left to figure out where he was. The Joker liked that the room was only half lit. He looked far more menacing in the dark. His eyes looked almost nonexistent, they appeared to be endless pools of black abyss, instead of the dark murky brown that they actually were. He was far more intimidating this way.

He glanced about the room. There was a lamp on the metal table and two doors. Oh, and the double sided mirror. That could be useful. Later, not now though. Suddenly, the door opposite of him burst open. A cop came in, full of attitude and using some overly rehearsed scare tactic. Didn't anyone make up their own material these days? Besides, did he actually look like he could be intimidated by anyone, let alone this moron? The Joker simply grinned and stared at him disinterested. "Do you wanna know how I got these scars?" He asked in a bored voice. He'd rather hear himself speak than this idiot.

A few minutes into the story, the man realized that he wasn't getting anywhere and growled in annoyance and walked out of the room, slamming the door in a tantrum. Finally, the Joker thought with relief, he'd thought the cop would never take the hint. He couldn't even remember what scar story he'd been telling. Not that it mattered, it wasn't the real one. The Joker didn't even remember what the real one was anymore.

A while later Gordon came through the door with a scowl and sadness etched into his tired face. The Joker greeted him politely, "Evening, Commissioner." It was always best to have manners when one was a guest. He sat down opposite of the Joker and stared at him for a moment, trying to asses the best way to get the information he needed.

"Harvey Dent never made it home."

"Of course not."

The Joker just vaguely hinted at things. Frustrating the commissioner even more, making him desperate. Gordon began asking questions, many of which the cop already knew the answers to.

The Joker suddenly felt a tingle shimmy down his spine. Hmm…

Then Gordon undid his handcuffs. The Joker smiled in appreciation, they had been cutting off his circulation. He wiggled his fingers slightly and Gordon said he needed coffee, which was obvious by just looking at the haggard man.

"The good cop bad cop routine?" The Joker asked with a wink and a click of his tongue.

"Not exactly," Gordon said, looking at the darkness behind the Joker.

The Joker sat there for a moment, feeling disconcerted. Something was happening, something he couldn't see. Gordon wouldn't have just left like that and…

**BAM! **

The Joker head met the metal table with a startling smack. He lifted his head up slowly as his vision began to become clear again. He rubbed his forehead with his paint smudged hand. As the Joker glanced up, he saw a dark cape and the strong frame of a person. He smiled in contentment. He should have known what that tingle had meant, the number of times he'd felt it before, it always meant the same thing, _Batman_.

"Never start with the head," The Joker said, trying to give Batman some helpful advice about torturing people. If he was going to do it, then he'd better do it right. The Joker wanted to enjoy it after all.

"You wanted me, here I am," Batman said in his harsh voice. Oh, yes, the Joker certainly did want him. He wanted Batman so bad it made him shake a bit. This night was just getting better and better. The Joker smiled, now was the time.

"I wanted to see what you'd do. And you didn't disappoint." He carried on hinting at various things that would make Batman get angry, make him get violent. About how he let five people die, who cared, they would have died anyway. He rubbed the bit about Dent in a little more. The Joker knew that it ate away at Batman. He was counting on it. He needed Batman closer, _much_ closer.

"Where's Dent?" Batman asked, his patience persisting. The Joker would have to try harder. He began going on about the Mob.

"There's no going back. You've changed things. Forever." The Joker said getting unconsciously closer to Batman. His arms were crossed so that Batman couldn't see his shaking hands. He'd never been so excited before.

"Then why do you want to kill me?" Batman asked completely confused, but trying to still maintain the upper ground. The Joker laughed hysterically, bouncing up and down at the absurdity of that question. Kill him?! Kill _him_?!

Oh, they had a lot to talk about.

"Kill you?! What would I do without you?" The Joker asked completely genuine. He honestly had no idea what he'd do with Batman. Probably not exist. They weren't forces that should be separated. It would kill them to be. Didn't Batman know that?

If the Joker didn't have Batman, he'd still be ripping off mob dealers. He couldn't go back to doing that again. Batman was slightly dense about their relationship, perhaps he should enlighten him.

"You," the Joker began, gesturing to both of them, "you complete me." He said this with his eyes completely devoid of any humor. The Joker stared into Batman's fervent gaze and found a swirl of attraction mingled with understanding.

Oh.

Batman _knew_.

He knew, just as the Joker did, that they were meant for this. Whatever this _thing_ between them was, it was reciprocated. This attraction was unstoppable and they were meant to do this forever, push at one another, try to take the other down and all the while know that it was futile. They were unstoppable and unmoving forces. They'd forever clash and forever be together, locked in battle. The truth was so clearly displayed in Batman's eyes.

He understood the Joker. He almost understood what they were together, what they _could_ be together, but he still _needed_ to save the day. It's what he was born to do. The Joker grinned, his scars stretching to their limits. Everything was perfect. Everything was as it should be.

Batman was just pushing his thoughts away, trying to dwell deeper to get a better understanding of this 'deranged' person, trying to discover what the Joker had done. So that he could be the Dark Knight and save everyone. Batman was playing his role just as the Joker was playing his, just as it was supposed to be, the way that it was fated to be. They'd play this game until the end.

It's what they did.

It began to become clear to the Joker that nothing that was being said held very much importance. It was all in the actions. The Joker would lean towards Batman and Batman would keep his eyes locked on the painted clown, never having his attention diverted. The Joker would lick his lips and Batman's hand would clench the side of the table a bit harder. The Joker would gesture wildly and Batman would stare deeply at the Joker, utterly entangled in some sort of twisted enchantment, unable to look away.

"You're garbage who kills for money." Batman said harshly. They weren't really playing roles, the Joker supposed. That would imply that they were acting. They weren't. This is who they were. It wasn't a guise or a mask. Their masks were their unmasked selves, their true selves. The Joker's brain was swirling about, trying to memorize every second, every movement, and every breath of this interrogation.

"Don't talk like one of them. You're _not_." The Joker said in irritation. He knew that Batman wanted to be normal, so badly that it physically hurt him, but he needed to know that it wasn't possible. He needed to know that no matter how hard he _tried_, he'd never be one of them. There wasn't any other way for him to be.

This was it.

It was almost cute how he tried though, struggling to gain _their_ approval, while secretly knowing nothing would ever be good enough. It pained the Joker to see Batman so out of sorts over these plebeians. The Joker just needed him to know that it was alright to be _different_. He explained the "complexity" of these people, these people that Batman so envied. The Joker tried to explain what their problems were, tried to show Batman just how far above these people they both really were.

"See I'm not a monster, I'm just ahead of the curve."

Batman grabbed him viciously and pulled him forwards with hardly any exertion. The Joker's breath caught in his throat. He was _so_ close. His hands brushed the sides of Batman's uniform, burning with sensation.

The Joker's brain went into overdrive, trying to see what would do _it_, what would send Batman off the cliff and into the whirling pit of anger and intensity that the Joker yearned for. If he could just get Batman a little angrier…

"You have all these rules and you think they'll save you." The Joker said quickly.

Batman pulled him higher and smashed him into the wall. The Joker's head cracked against the brick and he went limp for a moment, letting Batman's strength hold him up unassisted. Batman got closer, crushing his body against the Joker's in frustration. The Joker's mind went silent. All he could see and feel was Batman. His abdominal muscles were clenching from his anger. Batman's entire being was smoldering this indescribable power.

The Joker closed his eyes for a moment, noticing how perfectly they fit together. There wasn't an awkward hip bone out of place or a crack of space in between them. Their bodies were perfect opposites that fit together like puzzle pieces, puzzle pieces that were smashed and hammered into place until they fit correctly; until no one noticed that they were from totally different puzzles and that the edges were smeared and torn.

"I have one rule." Batman said, his voice gruff and hot against the Joker's face. It made the Joker dizzy. He grabbed at Batman's arm that was holding his neck, steadying himself as his head spun. The sharp blades on Batman's glove made deep indentations in the Joker's neck, a line of blood leaked out slowly. He could feel the smooth material on Batman's forearm. He began grasping at the arm as he felt his stomach quiver wildly, wanting more, demanding more. The Joker felt like something had erupted inside of him. The simmering heat seared his insides, making him squirm against Batman.

The Joker's feet dangled in the air and he tangled his legs with Batman's, getting a better grip on the man. The Joker felt like his body was being pumped full of venom. His limbs began to sting poisonously from all the contact. His head swam with blurred thoughts and his eyes were glowing.

The Joker said some things that he couldn't really remember. About rules and breaking them, Batman sure liked to talk at inconvenient moments. The Joker could barely make a coherent sentence. Then they were on about Dent…again. The Joker was over this man. He had too much hold over Batman. The Joker would see that come to an end soon enough.

He'd get Dent away from _his_ nemesis.

"…the way that you threw yourself after her."

And then he was vertically in the air. His stomach flopped and the Joker braced himself for whatever came next. This was all so uncontrollable. It was spectacular. His back slammed into the metal table. His shoulder hit the corner and he howled with laughter as the pain edged its way into his arm. It felt so good. He felt so _alive_. This is what he'd missing his whole life.

The Joker rolled away as Batman dragged the chair towards the door, blocking the entrance so that they wouldn't be interrupted. Oh, the Joker loved that. He was over the interruptions too. They never got enough time alone. He sat up and the pain from his earlier neck injury, when the truck had flipped, was amplified to the extreme. It throbbed against his skin and it made his bones ache. He cracked his neck and some of the pain dropped off. Not that this would stop him, he needed some more contact. It was addicting. Batman was one hell of a drug.

"Does Harvey know about you and his little bunny?" The Joker said, stretching his back muscles, getting ready for the next blow. The next one would hurt; the Joker could see Batman loosing his patience, loosing his control. It was something that the Joker had never seen anyone do before. He was proud that he could pull such reactions out of the masked man.

Batman grabbed the back of the Joker's head and the Joker leaned into the touch just as his face was smashed into the mirror. He closed his eyes so that he didn't go blind from the glass that splashed everywhere.

"Where are they?!" Batman yelled. The Joker still refused to tell. He needed just a bit more of this. A few punches later the Joker lay on the ground, completely worn out. His brain was rattling around in his head as the punches kept getting harder and harder. His body was weakened with pain and was still swimming with stinging sensations from Batman's closeness.

Alright, he'd tell him now. It was almost too late anyway. Batman pulled him up by his vest, the Joker let all of Batman's strength keep him up. It was an unbelievable feeling being so close. Feeling how strong he was, how intense he was, how perfect he was.

"…and that's the point, you'll have to choose." He told Batman the opposite addresses, laughing and smiling at the close proximity. He could barely believe that this happening, this was _finally_ happening.

As soon as Batman threw him to the ground, the Joker began giggling uncontrollably. His chest was heaving from the lack of oxygen and his adrenaline was slowly seeping out of his body. He laid his head against the cold concrete, replaying the scene over and over and over…

* * *

The Joker sat there, in the banged up interrogation room, savoring the ache in his bones. His muscles were sore and his head was still throbbing from being slammed into the table and the mirror. His head was leaned back against the hard brick wall, feeling completely content in the afterglow of their fight.

The Joker still smelled like _him_. It was a mix of that Kevlar material his suit was made out of, metal, and a rich dark aroma that was simply Batman. His head was leaned against the wall, shattered mirror shards lay everywhere.

The Joker stared at his hands.

He could still feel that lovely hard body pressed into him roughly. Batman's hands had pressed so forcefully into the Joker's shoulders, that he was sure to have dark black and purple bruises. Black and purple were good colors together. The Joker remembered how his hands had grazed the indentations of Batman's muscles when he'd been slammed into the wall. He'd mapped out every last bit of the caped man, touching as much as he could in that small amount of time.

The Joker's hands were trembling and he moved and fidgeted them about so as to not draw attention. He still had to get out of here, but it was so hot. The Joker's brain was still groggy and blurred. His thoughts were simply too entangled in Batman to get straightened out.

His make-up was more smeared than before. He needed to remember what he was supposed to do now. The Joker knew that he'd come up with a diversion before he'd gotten locked up but he couldn't remember. All that his mind wanted to do was replay that scene with Batman over and over and over...

His words were quiet and he stumbled, trying to remember how to speak again. "I want...I want my phone call."

Batman had an amazing effect on the Joker. The Joker spoke a little louder, gaining confidence in his voice as his thoughts began to work properly again. "I want it. I want my phone call."

That tactic didn't work too well. He'd have to taunt this man. The Joker was in no mood to get pulled around at the moment. He was tired and he was hurting. Not that he was complaining. It felt _good_, very good. But with Batman gone, he didn't need to be here anymore. So he said a few things lazily, made a few cracks at the man's job and about killing cops. It soon worked and the Joker licked his too dry lips.

The man came forward and started talking about something, the Joker wasn't listening. He was paying attention to the mirror shard that was in his hand and deciding on just how to out maneuver this man. It wouldn't be difficult. He was cocky and out of shape.

He couldn't believe that this man thought he could take him on when Batman could barely make him talk. He only competed with Batman. No one else came close. And this wasn't some fight that the Joker would sit back and enjoy. Oh no, he only did that when he fought Batman. The Joker cracked his neck. That was going to hurt in a few hours.

The man came closer and the Joker quickly jumped up. His legs ached in protest, but he ignored them. He pulled a few punches and got the man walking towards the office area. Everyone freaked out when they saw the clown and his captive and they instantly pulled their guns out. The Joker would never understand these people. He had a sharp object to their friend's throat and they pulled out weapons and threatened him. The Joker rolled his eyes and said, "I just want my phone call."

A guy hesitantly threw him a cell phone. He dialed the number shushing the whimpering grown man. People just didn't have any dignity. A few seconds later and the big whoosh of fire came hurdling towards the room. The Joker hunched his shoulders and felt the heat from the flames lick at his face. His paint was sweating off. The Joker assumed that it was probably nearly gone by now. Not that the Joker actually cared. His body was too tired to notice much and his brain was too wrapped up in Batman to pay attention to anything else.

He walked slowly over to Lau's cell. Jingling the keys, he said quietly, "Hello, there."

The Joker grabbed a pair of handcuffs and quickly restrained the quivering Chinese man. Clicking the silver cuffs into place, the Joker smiled and flipped his hair out of his face, revealing his scarred and slightly bare face. "Hell of a night," he said smiling widely, his scars stretching languidly up his cheek. The man made a noise of protest, but the Joker just dragged him over to the table where his knives were and held one to his neck.

"Now you listen here," he said harshly, his voice was gruff and strained, "I'm in a _very _good mood right now and if you want to live, you won't spoil it. Got it?" Lau nodded frightened beyond belief. The Joker nodded to himself and grabbed the rest of his knives. He picked up a piece of metal that was slightly melted from the explosion and jimmed open the locked filing cabinet of evidence. The Joker pulled his purple coat out and dusted some of the dirt off of it, staring at the singe marks.

He hadn't realized that playing with Batman could get so messy. Next time, he'd be sure to wear a different coat. This one was his favorite. He didn't want it ruined. Flinging the coat onto his shoulders, the Joker twirled about a bit, making sure that his coat was still functional. Then he scoured though all the records of that night and pulled his out from earlier. The Joker shoved them into the burning fire spot near the door, effectively wiping out all traces of himself.

The Joker pulled his whimpering captive with him by the hair. "Quit dawdling, Lau. It's time to go." He murmured, still thinking deeply about the evening's proceedings.

When they reached the parking lot, a few of his hench-clowns were waiting obediently for him. He jammed Lau into the back seat, making sure to crack his head a few times on the door, which effectively knocked him unconscious. His boys hot-wired the police car and quickly sped out of the parking lot.

The Joker took his jacket off and stuck his head outside of the window. The wind felt marvelous against his all too hot skin. He still found it difficult to breathe. His skin was just beginning to lose that stinging tingle that it'd had since Batman had first touched him. He closed his eyes as the sirens from the stolen police car screeched in his ears. He swung his head about outside the window, drying his sweat drenched hair. His brain swam with thoughts of Batman.

This had been the best night of his life.

* * *

-- **Please Review! **I hope that you all liked it. I took me _forever_ to write and the Joker's character was mutated beyond belief last night. Hopefully, he's fixed. Thanks for reading. More to come!


	6. Birds, Planes, and Fire

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. I am depressed and shall now cry like a big girl.

**Warnings:**_** Slash of the Joker/Batman variety. MMM…My favorite.**_

--Is it weird that I enjoy writing scenes were the Joker kills people. They're always the easiest bits for me to write. Hmm…that certainly says something about my psyche.

--Also, I told a few of you that this chapter would involve nurse!Joker. Well, I lied. I do that. So, I'm sorry and he'll make his lovely cross-dressing appearance next episode. Sorry about that. I got over excited and forgot bits of the movie…again. This time I figured it out beforehand. So, huzzah for progress.

--Love and hugs to **SaJi**, who was locked up in a theater, writing out this and the next script for me.

**As always thanks to my lovely reviewers. We're rocking over a hundred reviews. I LOVE YOU! **

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Birds, Planes, and Fire**

**By: EIW**

"_Everything burns." – The Joker, __Dark Knight_

* * *

The Joker had never been in a plane before.

He decided that he definitely liked them.

He enjoyed that pressurized feeling as the plane took off from the ground. It was intense. His chest filled with a heavy feeling as gravity pressed down harshly against his body, trying desperately to keep him and the others down on the ground, where they belonged. The Joker liked the sensation of his ears popping. His ears would _pop_ loudly, making his shoulders hunch uncomfortably before they'd get used to the new elevation level. His hearing would become less stifled and all the noises and various sounds would wash back into his head vividly.

The Joker, his hench-clowns, and Lau were all in Lau's snazzy private jet. They had an appointment in a few hours, an appointment that involved a lot of money. The mob had finally given in to him, they always did. He'd made Lau call his people and set up a pick up time at his air strip to get all the cash. The Joker didn't really care about the money, but it was a step in a long climb to get to see Batman again, get to play with him again, and hopefully, _fight_. The Joker _loved_ fighting with Batman. It was so fulfilling and spectacular. He doubted that he'd ever get tired of the Dark Knight.

So, this irritatingly long trip was necessary, more than necessary. He needed a good show to ring Batman in again. He was quite the elusive playmate. It took a lot to bring him out of the cave, so to speak. Then again, the Joker had always liked a challenge.

The hench-clowns were obnoxiously loud. They spoke far too much and their voices all strung together, sounding annoyingly the same. The Joker leaned his head against the cool window, looking at all the glowing lights on the ground. He tried to resist the urge to kill them all. He assured himself that after he finished the last few things, he'd be able to gut them mercilessly. How'd they'd managed to ruin his good mood was beyond comprehension.

The Joker had left the police station positively _blissful_. He'd gotten to play with Batman, he'd gotten his intimate fight, he'd gotten his addicting physical contact, he'd gotten his fix. And still, the hench-clowns had managed to kill his mood. They'd regret that later. He'd make sure that they would.

The Joker closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on getting some much needed rest. His body was begging for some relaxation. His neck was throbbing painfully and his shoulder was fractured at the very least. It would twinge with protest any time that he put too much strain on it. Ah, the spoils of a good fight with Batman.

Nothing could compare to fighting with _his_ nemesis. He thought distantly before closing his eyes as the sunlight of dawn glimmered against his white smudged face. The Joker pulled his purple coat over his head, blocking out all the bothersome rays of dim yellow sunshine. He'd be happy when they were in China. It'd be dark. The skies would be a hue of purple and black. His favorite colors. The Joker liked the nighttime. It's when Batman came out to play.

* * *

The plane had landed a few minutes ago and the Joker was still asleep. The hench-clowns whispered quietly, arguing over who would have to be the one to actually try and wake the boss up. They kept glancing fearfully towards his sleeping form. After a few games of rock, paper, scissors, the loser was decided. The man walked hazardously towards the painted clown boss, closing his eyes in reluctance, and glancing back at the huddled mass of hench-clowns at the exit. They urged him to get it over with.

A hesitant hand touched the Joker's shoulder lightly, trying to wake his up gently. Suddenly, the Joker's shimmering silver knife was stuck violently into the hench-clown's chest, right above his heart. The man gasped and staggered backwards. The other hench-clowns stared at the man with wide eyes.

The Joker looked at stabbed hench-clown and breathed a relived sigh. "What the hell is wrong with you, you don't startle people awake like that." The man shook and fell to his knees staring helplessly at the knife. "Don't ever do that again," the Joker said swiftly throwing his coat on. He smiled at the hench-clown and patted his head gently as he ripped the knife out. The man's blood leaked out of his chest as he lay on the floor, making a red pool around the Joker's feet. The Joker jumped in the red liquid as if it were a mud puddle, sending red drops of blood splashing about his feet. After he was satisfied with the amount of blood that soaked the carpet, the Joker glanced up at his henchmen.

"What are you waiting for? Let's _go!,_" He growled, as he grabbed Lau by the hair and pulled him towards the exit of the plane. His headache was coming back. A few of Lau's men were standing outside the plane, waiting patiently for their boss to come out and give them instructions. The hatch-door opened and the masked hench-clowns burst out, threatening Lau's men with their large guns and making them lay on the ground.

"Alright, gents, load the dough into the plane," the Joker instructed as he got off the plane and inspected the landing strip. He got dangerously close to the edge and looked down. He hummed at the height of the building and began walking slowly around the edge of the outline of the air pad. His feet were slightly hanging off of the building as he toed the line. Almost like a gymnast on the balance beam. He held his arms out for balance and stuck his tongue out in concentration.

After he made a full pass around the outline of the building, the Joker got close to one of Lau's men and stared at him. The man started muttering something in Japanese. Suddenly, the Joker grabbed the man by his suit coat and threw him off the side, watching in fascination as he landed with a sickening smack against the ground. At least the Joker assumed it was a smack, they were far too high up to actually hear it. Squinting his eyes, the Joker could see the outline of a body and the red tinges of blood on the ground. That was good enough for him.

The Joker wondered what it would feel like to fall to the ground like that, stomach flipping about, head cracking against the pavement and splattering, revealing the red and pink gooey contents. It must feel exquisite. Perhaps he should ask Batman about the flying bit sometime. The man jumped off enough buildings that he obviously liked the feeling too. Maybe if the Joker played his cards right, he'd be able to grab a hold of Batman sometime and make him give the Joker a lift. It'd be worth it just to see the look on Batman's face. He quickly twirled around towards the plane. His coat was flipping wildly about from the all the wind. It was time to go.

Lau's other men looked horrified and the Joker smiled fiendishly at them. "Boys, get these _people_ bound tightly and put them on the plane. They'll be our souvenirs."

The Joker hurried up the steps of the airplane, anxious to get the rest of his new idea into play.

* * *

A man screamed hysterically as he fell towards the dark blue ocean. His suit whipped about flurried and his body kept switching positions as it caught different swipes of wind. The painted clown laughed insanely from the door opening of the plane.

About an hour into the flight home, the Joker had become bored and decided to play with his new souvenirs. At first, he'd thrown a few out of the plane, trying to get them to land on interesting places or on the unsuspecting people of Hong Kong. The Joker managed to get a few of them on the tops of snowy mountains and on one extremely good throw, he'd gotten lucky enough and the man had landed on the sharp point of a very interestingly built skyscraper. The man's body had been impaled on the high point of the decorative rooftop. His body had hung limply from the post.

The hench-clowns had cheered and started taking bets. However, he'd soon run out of countryside as they headed towards the ocean. Now the bet was to see which of Lau's men would make the biggest splash. Birds flew near the plane and the Joker quickly grabbed another man and threw him into the bird, which was taken out when the man propelled into it. The man had snagged hold of the bird and gripped it tightly as if it would save his life. They both screamed and squawked until they met the hard waves of the water. His clowns cheered and groaned as they traded money and valuables, depending on the bets they'd made.

The Joker did enjoy his clowns sometimes. Maybe he wouldn't kill them all yet.

* * *

Nature was disgusting.

The Joker thought as he sat in the bushes near Gotham General Hospital. Various leaves and twigs were poking and scratching his face, leaving tiny red graze marks on his white painted cheeks and forehead. The Joker was not amused at the situation.

He and his clowns had been sitting there for almost a half an hour. They'd seated themselves in the decorative plant area near the basement exit, waiting for the midnight shipment of blood to come in. They didn't want the blood, not that the Joker had anything against the glorious red oozing liquid, he just needed a way to get all the gasoline and dynamite into the hospital. He wasn't entirely sure why he was doing this. It just seemed like a good idea and he'd ordered his men to get everything together.

Dirt was clinging to his newly washed purple coat and pants. His nose twitched in disgust. The Joker much preferred the hard concrete of the city. It was much more inviting than all this vegetation and wilderness. He enjoyed the metal and glass buildings that loomed high into the smoggy sky, the copious amount of people that wandered aimlessly about the city, just waiting to be plucked up or go 'missing.' In the wilderness the predators were animals, they killed for food or land. It was all quite predictable and boring.

But the city was a place where the predators were people. They killed for a variety of reasons, jealousy, envy, anger, safety, and the Joker's personal favorite, _fun_. They were the only species that killed each other for amusement or other non-instinctual, less 'natural' reasons. Predators could be anyone and it was much more interesting to watch everything unfold in the disorganization of ordered society.

The city was a much crueler place than nature could ever dream of being.

A thought suddenly floated into the Joker's overly active mind.

Harvey Dent was still alive.

The Joker had to give the man credit. He certainly had some fighting spirit in him. The man just wouldn't die. Of course the Joker knew that Batman was a large part of it, but still it was impressive. Not many people managed to worm their way out _one_ of the Joker's traps let alone several. It was all very remarkable. Perhaps, the chaos of the world was trying to tell him something.

Maybe Harvey Dent was still needed. It was possible. The Joker would have to see how things turned out. You never knew when someone would come in handy.

Suddenly, a large van pulled up to the locked door. The Joke motioned for his men to get ready. The unsuspecting blood bank deliverer got out of the van and whistled a funny tune while he walked over to the door. He quickly punched in the code and the door gave a buzz noise and swept open.

The Joker jumped up and stabbed the man in his throat, effectively stifling any noises of protest the man was going to make. Pulling the man towards the back of the van, the Joker instructed his hench-clowns to leave the knife in his neck. They didn't need to have all of his blood spurting out all across the sidewalk. This was one of those times when they needed to be discreet. This wasn't one of their strong suits, but they made do.

One of the hench-clowns quickly put a large stone in the door so that it would stay open as they hauled all the materials into the building. The Joker called hench-clown Group B to drive the truck full of gas and such to the basement entrance. He walked to the back of the van where the delivery man was locked up.

Jumping into the van, the Joker swiftly closed the heavy door behind him. He stared smugly at the man's reddening neck and gave a noise of mock sympathy. Blood gargled and seeped out of the man's mouth as he tried to speak or cry out. The Joker put his purple gloved hand on the black worn in hilt of the knife. His fingers fit snugly into the old indentations, a perfect match.

"Thanks for keeping this safe, but I need it back now," the Joker said apathetically, smiling sinisterly as the knife made a pleasant _squish _noise as it was pulled violently from the man's neck. Blood squirted out in several angles inside the back of the van. It splashed across the darkly tinted rear window, dripping down in wandering patterns. The Joker giggled madly as some sprayed onto his arm, darkening the already deep purple color of his coat.

This coat never stayed clean for long.

He watched in fascination as the delivery man gave his last few wheezing breaths, gasping and rasping about as he squirmed on the floor of the van. His hands desperately trying to quell to spurting blood and close the gape in his neck. The Joker tilted his head, completed fixated on the man's face. With one last withering exhale, the man's life drained out of his eyes, leaving them dull and empty. Everything was still for a few moments, before the Joker flung the car door open and hopped out of the van. He adjusted his blue tie and fixed his bunched up coat, slicking his hair back, the Joker closed the van door and walked towards the basement of the hospital.

His boys had quickly unloaded all the materials into the basement, checking the fuses and making sure that everything was in place. The Joker surveyed the explosives. The room was filled to the brim with barrels of gasoline. Some of the barrels had to be stacked on top of one another. Maybe he'd gotten too much. Oh well, it'd sure make for a nice boom. He bounced on the balls of his feet slightly, imagining the heat and immensity of the blast. It would be _huge_, big enough that Batman would see it from anywhere in the city. He'd _feel _it from anywhere in the city. There wouldn't be any way for him to miss it. The Joker grinned, a shiver creeping up his spin and he licked his overly dry lips. He liked the idea of Batman thinking about him.

It made him fidgety.

* * *

The money was getting piled higher and higher in the dingy warehouse.

The Joker personally thought that an abandoned warehouse was too cliché, but this was the mob after all. They lacked imagination amongst various other things. He pulled Lau up with him as he began building his money pyramid, humming a random tune as he worked. It was taking a while to erect his fiscal architectural masterpiece. The money just never seemed to dry up.

His hench-clowns had gone out to get some gasoline and matches. They'd used up their entire supply on the hospital. The Joker had sent them by themselves because he needed a break from their inane chatter. All he heard all day long was, "boss, boss, boss, boss…" It was enough to drive him insane. He wasn't crazy, but these people were certainly pushing him to his limits.

The Joker tried to steady his hands as he piled the money on higher. His hands hadn't been still ever since his fight with Batman. He just couldn't get the image of the Dark Knight pressing into him and slamming him into various objects out of his head. The Joker could swear every once in a while that Batman was there, watching him. He'd get that all too familiar tingle on his skin. He'd whip his head around, hoping to see Batman, praying to see him.

He just couldn't get enough.

The more attention he received from Batman the more he wanted, he more he _needed_. It was an addiction and the Joker craved his undivided attention. The kind he'd received the other night. They'd been together, uninterrupted and it had been magnificent. Now the Joker had to do something bigger, something better, something that would capture Batman's attention again. His life was quickly becoming moments of boredom that were strung together by Batman's appearances. Everything else was put on hold, cancelled, permanently delayed. Nothing else mattered anymore. The Joker was spiraling into the toxic pit of dependence.

His happiness depended on another person, another soul. The Joker had never relied on anyone before, so for his happiness, his good mood to rely on someone else, he found it quite alarming. It was much better this way though. The Joker had thought that he'd been happy, content with his life. Then he came to Gotham. Then he met Batman and nothing would ever compare to that. His life had been altered. Not that the Joker minded. His life had never been more interesting, more fun. He was immeasurably happy over this.

A few cars pulled up outside just as the Joker gently set the last packet of bills on the top of his pyramid. The Joker's grin had grown more vicious as he'd thought about Batman. It tugged his scars clear up the side of his face. Lau made a slight move away from him, completely scared for his life.

The Joker pulled out his knife and held it against the man's neck in warning. "Listen, listen to _me_!" The Joker growled out in aggravation. He was getting tired of these people never listening. His head was throbbing again. He'd pulled his neck the wrong way when he'd turned to Lau and now his neck was aching again. Oh, that little bastard who get his later. The Joker was done playing babysitter. "_Behave_ yourself," the Joker spoke in irritation, looking Lau in the eyes. The Joker's stare was venomous and Lau stopped moving all together.

His clowns wandered in and held up the items proudly, showing the Joker their 'purchases.' The Joker waved them off. He wasn't in the mood for them either. He wanted to see Batman. That's all. It wasn't too much to ask, the Joker thought moodily, running a shaking hand threw his tangled green tinged hair. He wondered if Batman thought about him. If the Dark Knight ever wondered what he was doing, who he was killing, what he was blowing up. It was exciting to think about. The Joker took a steadying breath as he heard another batch of cars roll up.

Show time.

The Joker quickly shooed his men away and readjusted a few of the packets of money. The heavily accented man walked up with a cigar. "Not so crazy as you look," he said smiling at the sight of all the money. The Joker rolled his eyes at the expression. Greed was all well and good, but when it was over something as useless as money, it was a wasted emotion. The Joker had greed for Batman's attention, for chaos, for many things, but not over useless paper that didn't actually amount to anything. It was all idiotic, but very Gotham.

They certainly weren't the smartest people.

"I told you, I'm a man of my word." The Joker said as he slid down his pyramid. It was a slightly bumpy ride down, but fun nonetheless. He grabbed some of the cash and chucked it at Lau, hitting him square in the face. The Joker giggled slightly. The money had come in handy for something at least. The mobster was talking about something again. The Joker made an effort to listen. He couldn't stand long winded speeches. Actually he couldn't stand when people talked at all. Their voices and words all warped into this obnoxious sound that the Joker had to concentrate on if he wanted to understand. It was all very annoying.

Well that wasn't quite true, because as with everything, there was an exception. _Batman_. The Joker loved that vicious growling voice that Batman had. He knew that it wasn't his real voice, well the 'real' voice that he used during the daylight hours anyway. But if he was close enough to Batman, the Joker could feel it rumble up from his chest. The vibrations sent a thrill through the Joker's body.

The way that Batman spoke was also interesting. His voice carried undertones of charm. It was odd since he was so clearly not a very alluring figure, but the Joker liked it. He liked it a _lot_. Batman was also not longwinded. He said things quickly and was always straight to the point, which was good since the Joker couldn't pay attention to one thing very long. Even if Batman had been a speech-maker, the Joker would probably see be able to pay attention. The flow of the conversation was captivating. There was emotion behind anything that Batman said. It was always passionate, always strong. Batman could wind words that hypnotized the Joker, making him watch, making him listen.

"What you do with all your money?" The man asked, breaking the Joker's whirlwind of thoughts.

"You see, I'm a guy of simple tastes. I enjoy ah... dynamite, gunpowder and _gasoline_." His boys started to pour the tinted liquid on the money. The smell of gasoline seeped throughout the room. The Joker liked the smell. It always meant that something was going to blow up or catch fire. Either way the Joker was pleased.

The man began to whine about his money. The Joker responded, ignoring most of the conversation. He grabbed the man's cigar and blew twice on it. "I'm only burning my half." He flung it onto the dampened cash. It burst into flames quickly. The Joker could hear Lau's screams muffled in the background. He was staring at the orange flames as they climbed higher and blackened the paper money.

"All you care about is money. This town deserves a better classic criminal, and I'm gonna give it to 'em. Tell your men they work for me now. This is _my_ city."

This town deserved better. _Batman_ deserved a better class of criminal and the Joker wasn't going to disappoint Batman. The Joker quickly disposed of the mobster and let his men chop him up and feed him to the dogs. Served him right for being a materialistic idiot, he had it coming.

The Joker had an idea suddenly. He knew that he'd put those barrels of gasoline in the hospital basement for a reason. He called the GCN, letting them know what was going on, letting Gotham know what was going on. He was determined to get these people in the game, but only under his rules of course. He couldn't have them mucking about, spoiling his and Batman's fights. The Joker watched as Lau's body as it began to crumple in on itself and melt. Dripping skin fell onto the flames, making the warehouse smell of gasoline and burning flesh.

Oh, yes, complete and utter chaos would reign throughout the city today. It would certainly catch Batman's attention. He smiled crookedly, his complete and utter undivided attention. The Joker couldn't wait to see the intensity in those brown eyes again, to feel the sensation of being punched and touched again.

It made him all tingly just thinking about it.

* * *

Thanks for reading! **Please review.** Up next is Nurse!Joker. Oh, yea, you love it.


	7. Ginger Haired Nurses Dancing in My Head

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. _-cries hysterically at the unfairness of it all-_

**Warnings:_ Slash and a cross-dressing psychopathic clown! Best combo ever!  
_**

--I love the Batman Psychology and Batman Tech shows on the History Channel. They own.

--The beginning of this chapter is for **Suadela**, who gave me a lovely idea about Reese in her last review that I should have done last chapter, but forgot to because I suck. I managed to shimmy it in here, so hurray!

--Three cheers for **SaJi**, my lovely script note taker, who is sick right now and in need of hugs. _-hug-_

--Last chapter I wrote that Lau's man was speaking Japanese; well… maybe the Joker just doesn't know the difference and is crazy and forgot that he's in Hong Kong. Or maybe the author is just an idiot and is trying to pass off her idiotic mistakes on fictional characters. It could go either way. Sorry!! -points to self- **Dork!**

**AS ALWAYS, MUCH LOVE TO THE REVIEWERS!! They're the real heroes.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Ginger Haired Nurses Dancing in My Head**

**By: EIW**

"_Do you think I should go to the hospital?" _

"_You don't watch the news very much do you?"- Bruce Wayne, Lt. Gordon, __Dark Knight_

* * *

The van was silent as they drove to the hospital.

The Joker had just finished his lovely phone call to GCN news station. He couldn't have Coleman Reese getting in the way of his game with Batman. As much as the Joker would _kill _to see Batman's face, he didn't want to do it like this. Spilling the secret on a news television show was hardly classy. It was utterly tasteless. It lacked luster and pizzazz. If Batman ever did show his identity to the masses, it would definitely not be like this.

Besides, the Joker didn't want everyone to know who Batman was. They'd bother him left and right, getting in the way of their fight, trying to stop him or help him. Other people would see his face and know that he was Batman. The thought made the Joker's stomach churn. He didn't want others to see Batman's face. They didn't have the right. Batman was _his_. No one else should be able to mess, hurt, play, or touch him.

The van took a swift turn and the Joker was knocked out of his thoughts. He glared at the driver a moment. The man murmured an apology and sped up, trying to make it to the hospital before his boss decided to kill him. A few moments later, the van stopped near basement entrance. The Joker jumped out, yelling, "Make sure the bus is in place!" The hench-clowns nodded vigorously and said something affirmative.

The van quickly sped away. The Joker breathed in quietly, getting his thoughts and ideas in order. He needed to be focused to do this job. It didn't involve Batman per say, but it was one of the stepping stones towards his grand finale with the Dark Knight. That was enough to stop his whirling thoughts and get them to focus. The Joker found that he concentrated best when something involved Batman. It didn't matter how sparsely it could be linked to him. His brain was just more productive and imaginative when it came to Batman. He really did bring out the best in the Joker, or the worst, depending on how one looked at it.

The Joker stepped up to the locked door, punching in the six digit code that his boys had rigged the other night. "2, 2, 8, 6, 2, 6" the Joker hummed the numbers out, giggling slightly. His boys did have a sense of humor about them. That or they knew of the Joker's obvious obsession and they were trying to please him. Either way, the Joker didn't really care.

As he stepped inside of the building, the smell of gasoline overpowered his senses. The Joker took a deep breath and assessed that everything was still in place. Once his survey was complete, the Joker began wandering towards the entrance door. He twirled cheerfully around, swirling about, dancing in between the barrels of gasoline. His purple coat whirled around him in flashing streaks of purple as he weaved around objects towards the door. The Joker laughed madly, but tried to quiet himself. He didn't need any extra attention, not right now, especially not from these people.

The Joker hopped up the stairs, taking them two at a time. He gripped the rail bars and swung briefly and landed with a thump by the door that probably led to the first floor of the hospital ward. The Joker slicked his hair back and put his gloved hand on the door and turned the handle gently.

The Joker cracked the door a bit and glanced out towards the bland off white hallway. A few people were walking through and the Joker waited a few moments until they passed. He didn't really want to kill these stragglers, but if they didn't leave soon, he'd have no choice. Eventually, the patients and random nurses passed on by, unknowingly saving their lives. They were getting ready to evacuate this floor. The Joker would have to move fast to get to Harvey's floor in time. Not that he minded, he always liked a challenge.

As soon as the nurses turned the corner, the Joker slid into the hallway, glancing towards the conveniently placed map on the wall. It had large red letters stating, '**You're here**.' The Joker didn't know where else he'd be, but he didn't have enough time to try to understand the rationale of the Gotham people right now and their idiotic signs. Footsteps jostled the Joker out of his randomly continuing thoughts. He quickly slipped into the closest room and held his breath for a moment, waiting to see if the person would pass on through quietly or if he'd have to kill them. He really didn't mind killing them, but he was kind of in a hurry.

A sudden sound from behind the Joker startled him and he turned around, brandishing his knife. An astonished looking elderly woman was sitting on her bed, staring in shock at the clown painted man. "Are you here to kill me?" She asked quietly. Her voice was unwavering.

The Joker pursed his lips and walked towards the edge of the bed. He hummed in thought and stared at her a while longer. The old woman had tubes sticking in random places of her body. Her breathing was regulated by the machine to her right and her face was almost as white as his painted one was. She had bright ginger hair, obviously a wig. Her body was in no shape to grow hair like that. Her eyes looked empty. He'd gain no satisfaction from watching this lady die. She was dead inside already. "No, ma'am. Not if you keep quiet." He said flippantly, walking towards the window and glancing out. She was of no interest to him. By the looks of it, she'd been 'dead' a long time now.

"Oh," she said looking slightly disappointed, "So, if I cause a ruckus, you would?" her eyes glinting hopefully. The Joker glanced back at her from the window, staring at her intently. He walked over and sat at the edge of her bed. He licked his lips and said, "I'll make you a deal." The woman sat up slightly in anticipation. The dark circles under her eyes screamed from lack of sleep. Her body was frail and scarily bony. The chart on her bed said something about a malignant tumor in her brain.

"This building is going to blow sky-high in about twenty minutes." The Joker said his eyes glittering. He dangled the detonator in front of her. "The doctors and nurses are evacuating everyone, which I've given them enough time to do. Whoever said I wasn't a nice guy?" He said, smiling fiendishly.

The Joker stared at her hair for a moment and then said, pointing at her head, "Now if you give me your wig, I'll make sure that they leave you in this room and you'll be blown away, dead before the sun sets." He finished, smiling crazily and sticking out his hand for her to shake. "Do we have a deal?"

The woman looked tearfully at the Joker and clasped his hand in both of hers. "Thank you," she said her voice barely coherent. "Thank you, dear."

The Joker grinned as she let go of his gloved hand. Pulling her wig off, she brushed it out and made it look neat and handed it to him. The Joker smiled his wicked grin, his scars stretching upwards. He grabbed it and tucked it inside his coat.

The Joker stood up and began to walk to the door. He closed the curtains and flicked the lights out. He looked outside one more time. It was all clear. He turned around and gave the old lady a wink, locking the door on his way out. Slipping out into the hallway, the Joker quickly made his way towards the closet area. He needed the rest of his disguise. The old woman, Katherine Lee, smiled as he left. He was the nicest person she'd met in a long time.

The Joker opened the closet door and snuck inside. All this sneaking around was annoying. He enjoyed being seen. It had a tendency to frighten people, but it was necessary at the moment so, he'd do it. Once he clicked the light in the small closet on, it revealed a load of random uniforms. The Joker hummed as he turned his head, surveying his costume choices. They were all boring colors. Pastel blues, whites, and pale yellows. The Joker sighed, slightly disgusted at the unremarkable selection. A strange pink coral color caught his eyes though. That wouldn't be too bad. It was a dress, but he wasn't too picky. Besides, he had nice legs.

The Joker hesitantly threw his coat to the floor; he knew that it was unlikely that he'd get it back. It was going to be lost in his explosion. At least he had some replacements, but still, this was his _favorite_. He'd worn it the night of Harvey Dent's party, the first time that he'd seen Batman, the first time that he'd realized how important Batman really was. He stared at the coat and shook his head slightly. He was being stupidly sentimental.

He practically ripped off his tie and vest. His thoughts were still buzzing about Batman. These were the clothes that he'd worn in the police station with the Dark Knight, when they'd fought. Batman had grabbed this vest and held him against the brick wall. The Joker's skin tingled at the memory. Somehow, everything tied back to Batman. He threw the garments on the ground, running a hand through his matted hair. He needed to calm down. This wasn't a time for him to be thinking about Batman. It always served to distract him. He needed to _focus._

The Joker quickly collected his rattling mind. He'd have other times with Batman. The clothes didn't make a difference. He slipped his shirt off and noticed the black and purple bruises that littered his chest from his fight with Batman. At least he still had those. Those couldn't be taken away. The Joker smiled to himself and finished dressing. He needed to stop thinking about Batman. He was getting too distracted from the task at hand.

He quickly looked at himself in the mirror by the door. Not bad. Oh, but his face would cause a panic. These people were already losing their minds. They'd just cause problems if they saw him. Glancing around the area, the Joker saw a paper mask. He put it on his face. It would have to do. His shoes weren't going to be noticed so it didn't matter that he had his multicolored socks on. Everyone was too busy trying to get out of the hospital to notice his footwear.

The Joker grabbed his gun from his coat pocket and peeked out the door. People were bustling about, but the old lady's door remained closed. They'd think it had been evacuated already. His grin twitched slightly, he was a man of his word. He had to make sure that she got her end of the bargain. He Joker rolled his shoulders back and adjusted his ginger wig, slipping his gun out of sight and dropping the detonator into his pocket.

He walked quickly towards the stair area. It would be less crowded than the elevators. Most patients had problems walking. No one noticed him as he walked up the flights of stairs and through random hallways. By the time he got to Harvey's floor, the building was almost completely evacuated.

The Joker looked through the window of the door. Not a soul on the floor. He opened the door and walked through the hallway, checking the windows, trying to see which room Dent was in. He couldn't remember the number. He passed a nurse's desk. On the bulletin board there was a sticker, 'I believe in Harvey Dent.' The Joker smiled fiendishly, this was _too_ perfect. He quickly snatched it up and stuck it to his nurse uniform. His ensemble was finally complete.

Surprisingly, there were no guards at Harvey's doorway. The Joker walked in and stared at the badly burnt man. It looked like it hurt exceptionally. He could see Dent's jaw bone and his eye was completely bare. It was repulsive. The Joker grinned proudly at his handy work. It must have been some explosion. Too bad he'd been locked up at the time. At least Batman had gotten to see it.

The Joker bet that Batman had been awed by the blast. It had shaken Gotham for miles. His brown eyes would have been lit up by the fire, blazing with intensity. Harvey had gotten to see that, well his face was probably being burnt off at that time, but still, he'd gotten to be there with Batman. The Joker felt a jealous twinge strike him. It wormed its way into his chest, making the Joker fidget. He stared spitefully at the broken man.

At least Dent had paid the price. His face had been burnt off. Besides, the Joker was about to destroy the rest of him. He'd tear down the last bit of Dent's good nature and righteousness. The Joker would prove that everyone could fall, that everyone had a price, and that _everyone_ could be turned into something that they despised. Well, everyone besides Batman. But that went without saying, because Batman wasn't _everyone_. He was him. He was perfect, the perfect hero. Gotham was just too caught up with itself to realize who the real hero was.

They were all looking at Dent's chiseled face instead of the black mask that was their true protector. These people were really something else, ungrateful small minded people. That's all they were and still Batman saved them, helped them. It was beyond noble, beyond courageous, beyond heroic. It was as if Batman had some sort of solid objectivity about him that made him innately good. He was obsessed about being perfect and pure. He was almost psychotically good.

Suddenly, loud foot steps could be heard from the corridor. The Joker grabbed Harvey's chart and waited for the man to burst into the room. The police officer said, "Ma'am we're going to have to move him now."

The Joker turned and smiled ruthlessly under the mask as he shot the officer. He spun around and started to clink Dent's bed upwards. He chanted Harvey quietly as the bed rose to the sitting position.

Harvey Dent opened his eyes and stared blankly for a moment, taking in his surroundings and the nurse. The Joker began to take of his mask. He sat down. His nose bunched up and his grin was stretched out in an uncomfortable way as he awkwardly said, "_Hi_."

Harvey lunged violently forward, growling angrily when he couldn't reach the clown because of the restraints. The Joker took his wig off and ruffled his greenish hair, stretching it out and letting his scalp breathe. The Joker began speaking; he knew this would be a long conversation. He tried to pay attention, tried to reign in his unruly thoughts that catapulted back towards Batman at any given chance.

"You know, I don't want there to be any hard feelings between us Harvey." He said looking almost shyly at the injured man. He wasn't good with this sort of thing, the whole having a normal conversation thing. "When you and ah..." The Joker stalled, forgetting that girl's name. He was always bad with names.

"_**Rachel!**_" Harvey bellowed.

The Joker held up his hands in unspoken apology and surrender. Jeeze, this guy was really upset over this girl. If he'd realized this would've been the reaction, he would have blown that woman sky high before. The Joker spoke again, waving his hands about, gesturing widely. Fidgeting helped him speak. It allowed him collect his thoughts more easily.

"_Rachel_ were being abducted I was sitting in Gordon's cage. Now I didn't rig those charges." The Joker said, looking as innocent as possible. He assumed that he didn't pull it off.

"Your men, your plan." Harvey said, turning his head away. The Joker leaned slightly in his chair. "Do I really look like a guy with a plan? You know what I am? I'm a dog chasing cars. I wouldn't know what to do with one if I caught it. You know, I just _do_ things."

His hand gestures were becoming dramatic. This was the Joker's element. He could do this sort of conversation. He did this with Batman frequently, explaining why he did things, what he was after. If he pretended that Dent was Batman, this conversation would go much smoothly. It just sort of _flowed_ out. The Joker continued on, "So, when I say, when I say that you and your girlfriend," he grabbed Harvey's hand, patting it softly, "was nothing personal, you know I'm telling the _truth_." He finished looking deadly serious and he was.

Their involvement was nothing personal. It had all been a ploy so that he could get Batman's attention. If they hadn't been such good leverage, he wouldn't have bothered with them. They weren't important as people, they were just tools that he'd used to get to Batman. It had worked magnificently too. Batman was focused solely on the Joker, trying to figure out what he was going to do next. He was watching and waiting for _him. _The Joker was jittery over this.

The Joker could see Harvey's brain begin to take in what he was saying. Oh, yes, the people of Gotham were sure wrong about this one. He would turn, quite easily by the look of it. Batman wouldn't have given in; he wouldn't have let the Joker's words bother him. He stood too solidly on his morals. He never wavered and never gave up. The Joker _loved_ that about him. It's why they were perfect together because neither one would ever move an inch into the grey area. They were black and white. No other shade of color touched them.

"You were a schemer, you had plans, and ah...look were that got'cha." Harvey put up a nice effort into the fight, but he was lost already. The Joker was physically restraining Dent now. It was a technique he'd learned from all those stints in mental asylums. He knew they'd come in handy one day. It was almost pathetic the way Dent gave in. It was disappointing. Not that the Joker had been expecting much. Harvey Dent wasn't Batman. No matter how hard he tried to pretend that he was at times. He just couldn't compare to the Dark Knight, _his_ Dark Knight.

The Joker went on about plans and society, the hypocrisy, the uselessness, the unfairness of it all. Just the usual song and dance that always got to people like Harvey, people who thought that life owed them something, people that actually believed in the justice of nature. Dent believed in idiotic things.

Even Batman didn't think about things like that. Batman believed in justice, but he'd learned long ago that nature was cruel, the world was cruel and that if he wanted to have justice, then he'd have to do it himself. The Joker had never met anyone like that before. He couldn't corrupt him or make him think differently. He was a fixed person, just like the Joker. They were meant for this, perfect opposites, perfect opponents.

"Introduce a little anarchy." The Joker growled out, handing his gun to Harvey. He loved the word anarchy. It held so much promise. "Upset the established order," the Joker said, cocking the gun, "and everything becomes chaos." Oh, another promising word. The word described his life. It was such an engaging word. The Joker pressed the cool metal to the center of his forehead, relishing in the uncertainty of it all.

"I'm an agent of chaos. Oh, and you know the thing about chaos? It's fair." The Joker finished. Harvey looked at him for a few moments and pulled out a shiny silver coin. It caught the Joker's attention easily. "You live." Dent said passionately. The Joker hummed in understanding. Harvey flashed the other side of the coin and said,"You die."

The Joker purred, "Hmm... Now you're talking." His grin stretched painfully across his face. The uncertainty of death, it was such an intense feeling. The Joker smiled as the coin landed on the shiny silver side. Dent looked at him and the Joker pulled him up and said with an uninterested voice, "I'm blowing up this hospital. You should get out if you want to get revenge for _Rachel's_ death." The Joker had got what he'd come for. Dent was almost irrelevant now. He'd just set the newly madman loose. His job was almost done here.

Harvey nodded and started to walk cautiously towards the closet. He pulled out his partially burned suit and stared at it. The Joker rolled his eyes and walked out to the hallway. He leaned against the wall, humming a random tune, flipping the detonator up in the air and catching it. Oh, this would certainly get Batman's attention. He'd be after the Joker more aggressively then ever before. The Joker smiled crookedly and looked over at Harvey as he walked fully dressed from the room. The man barely glanced at him and walked towards the stairway exit.

The Joker shrugged and slipped the detonator into his pocket again. He walked over to the hand sanitizer container and pressed it down repeatedly. His hands felt gross from touching Harvey. He didn't like touching other people. They were disgusting _things_. He never felt gross after touching Batman though. In fact, he usually felt the complete opposite. The Dark Knight was always the exception it seemed like. The Joker rubbed his hands together, getting all of Dent's burn germs off of him. He walked casually down the hall, pulling the detonator out from his pocket. He got a bit away from the blast area. Licking his lips, he clicked the trigger and made an appropriate explosion noise, "_Kapoo_!"

The Joker wandered out through the entrance. He could feel the rumbling of the foundation. It was shaking violently. The Joker got quite a bit of bounce in his step. He was practically skipping down the sidewalk in his nurse uniform. The building was going to collapse, he thought giddily. He hadn't seen an entire structure crumble onto itself in a long time. The Joker was beyond excited. Batman would know at this very moment that he'd blown up Gotham General. There was no way that he couldn't feel the blasting shock waves that were about to shake the city. He'd be thinking about him and knowing that the Joker was still causing trouble. The Joker was sure that the rest of Batman's day would revolve around him. It was exhilarating to think about.

And then, it all stopped for a moment. The Joker held his arms out and looks confusedly at the building. It was supposed to topple down. He looked at the clicker exasperatedly. He pressed the button repeatedly. Nothing ever worked like it should. He should have known that the hench-clowns would mess it up. He always had to everyting himself.

**BOOM!**

Oh, never mind. The Joker jumped slightly. He hadn't been expecting that. He looked at the building once more before hopping on the bus. His hench-clowns had been holding the door open and stalling. The Joker quickly sat down in one of the last rows and bounced up and down with excitement.

The building gave a loud and thundering burst of fire and rubble as it plummeted down onto itself. The bus was speeding away and the Joker looked back as it fell, spraying smoke and debris across the area. The Joker's grin grew impossibly wide. He tapped his hands on the seat in front of him in giddiness. A couple of his hench-clowns looked at him expectantly. Ugh, what did they want _now_. The Joker thought, looking at them with a glint of irritation in his eyes.

"Uh, boss shouldn't we, you know, take the bus over?" One clown asked very hesitantly. The look the boss was giving them was not a good one. He was extremely angry.

Oh.

The Joker had almost forgotten about that. He stood up suddenly, fixing his dress. It was all bunched up. The material it was made from made him itchy and wrinkled very easily. It was obnoxious. How could anyone wear this all day? These people had no style.

"Alright, ladies and gentlemen, this is a hostage situation." Everyone stared at him in confusion and half fright. Well, that certainly wouldn't do. He grabbed one of his hench-clown's guns and fired a few shots into the roof of the bus. The driver swerved and the Joker held onto the seat to keep his balance. Where did this guy get his license?

"So, ah, put your hands on your heads and _don't_ move or I'll use you for target practice. Got it?" The Joker said, looking at them. No one moved. He grabbed the nearest person's chin harshly and asked, "Got _it_?" His voice was gruff and grim. His eyes were glinting furiously. The man nodded his head rapidly. "Good," The Joker growled, satisfied with the answer.

"Now my lovely assistants are going to watch over you while I speak to the driver and if you so much as _scratch _your head, they're going to blow your face off." He looked around and all the people nodded their head as best they could. The Joker made his way up towards the driver's seat. He spoke to the driver, giving him directions and making threats, the usual.

As he began to walk back to the end of the bus, he noticed a video camera. Sitting there was that guy from the news station, the one that had asked if that imposter Batman that the Joker had hung from the roof of the mayor's office, was actually Batman. He was an idiot. He would do nicely. The Joker loved it when things worked out this spectacularly. Now he'd have the perfect way to set up his next idea.

They arrived at the abandoned office building in record time. The bus driver could sure move fast when a gun was pressed to his head. The Joker was sitting with random pieces of paper, watching as the news set was being put up. He was quickly writing down some things that he wanted Engel to say to the people of Gotham. He tried to write neatly, but his hand kept twitching with the thought of Batman watching and thinking about him. He swept his hair from his sweating painted face. It was getting hot in here. There were too many people. The Joker didn't like being around this sort of crowd. Even though he was in complete control, crowds of people made him antsy.

Not scared or frightened, but he felt on edge simply because he needed to be ready for anything that they'd do. He had to be ready for any sort of attack or problem. It was all very trying. Taking a final look over the script, the Joker nodded to himself murmuring the lines, making sure that they made sense. His thoughts sometimes went haywire and would cause him to ramble on about nothing. This was alright though, easy to understand and straight to the point.

Taking a look at the fake news set, the Joker realized that it needed something extra. The set just needed another touch. The Joker grabbed the hostage camera man by the shoulder and quickly slit his throat, the blood sprayed onto the concrete floor. Engel stared terrified along with the rest of the hostages. The Joker watched the man squirm and make wheezing noises. He stopped moving after a few seconds. His eyes were empty as he lay on the ground. The Joker walked over and grabbed a random sheet that was used to cover furniture and dipped his finger into the red blood that pooled onto the floor.

He quickly scrolled 'Gotham Tonight' onto the white fabric. His tongue stuck out slightly in concentration. It needed to be legible. After he was finished, the hench-clowns strung it up behind Mike Engel. The Joker stalked over to him and grabbed his face roughly. There wasn't enough blood to draw a smile on Engel's face so he'd have to use paint. His hench-clowns hastily found some red paint that they'd used for something or another. The Joker couldn't actually remember, but it wasn't important. He remembered important happenings. Well, he remembered Batman happenings, which are the only important ones in the Joker's book. He used a bit of his red paint to draw a red smile on the anchorman's lips and cheeks. Stepping back, he grinned approvingly at the set.

He picked up the video camera and pressed the red record button. He adjusted the lens and motioned for Mike Engel to report.

"I'm Mike Engel from 'Gotham Tonight'." He glanced at the Joker's script and continued in a relatively calm voice. "What does it take to make you people want to join in? You failed to kill the lawyer. I've got to get you off the bench and in the game." The Joker murmured the last word quietly. It was his game, well, his and Batman's game. He needed some more players to make it interesting. He needed to get Bat's attention. He needed some leverage and he always enjoyed causing commotions. It's what he lived for.

"Come nightfall this city is mine."

"Mine." The Joker repeated, getting excited about the whole thing. His hand shook the camera slightly.

"And anyone left here plays by my rules."

"Rules," he said, shivering slightly with all the possibilities swirling through his head. He and Batman were going to have so much fun this time. It would be even better than the previous fight. There were going to be fireworks and everything. Sparkling glittering explosions that made lots of noise as the people from the ships were blown up. The Joker loved fireworks.

"If you don't wanna be in the game, get out _**now**_." Both Engel and the Joker said the last word at the same time. The Joker's foot was tapping against the floor rapidly. He was beyond giddy about this. It was going to be marvelous.

"But the bridge and tunnel crowd are sure in for a surprise. Ha, ha, ha." The Joker laughed hysterically, imagining all the pandemonium and chaos that was erupting throughout the city as they saw the tape. He shut the camera off. Everyone must have been losing their minds. The Joker doubled over, laughing insanely. His pitch would switch with every breath. The hostages stared and the hench-clowns backed up behind the hospital patients, preparing to use them as shields in case the boss came after them again. They'd seen this laugh before. It never meant anything good. It meant lots of people were going to die, hopefully, it wouldn't be them.

"Okay, boys," the Joker said, eventually catching his breath, "get the vans and do what I told you. I need those ferries brimming with explosive got it? I want people to be able to see it for miles around." He finished, gesturing extravagantly and twirling about. The Joker suddenly missed his purple coat. It wasn't as much fun spinning around without it.

The hench-clowns nodded and exited the room hastily. The hostages stared wide-eyed at him. He turned to one of them and yelled, "_Boo!_" the young lady screamed and scurried away. He glanced down at his clothes and sighed. He needed a new outfit. This one was getting old. He vaguely wondered what Batman would do if he saw the Joker wearing a nurse's outfit. This caused him to go into another fit of laughter.

The hostages looked on horrified, knowing that if they ever got out of this situation alive, that they'd never be able to look at a nurse the same way again. The Joker just kept on laughing as he imaged the look on Batman's face.

* * *

--Hope that you enjoyed. Nurse!Joker. Oh, Heath Ledger in drag. Gotta love it. Thanks for reading and please **review!! **It's what keeps me writing.

How the hell did this get so long! It's as lengthy as the interrogation scene. I have no idea what happened. I'm sure you all enjoyed it. I just hate editing these monsters. They take _forever_!

No hench-clowns were killed during this chapter. I think it's some kind of record. Oh, and 2, 2, 8, 6, 2, 6 is BATMAN. You know like when you're texting? The letters equal the numbers. I'm so clever.


	8. Fireworks and Finales

**Disclaimer:** Property of: Warner Bros, DC Comics, Legendary Films, Chris Nolan, Bale and Ledger. _Pshh, yea right, I'm hijacking the rights! Suck it, Nolan.  
_

**Warnings:_ Slash! It brings a tingle to my tummy._**

Dedicated to:

Love to **SaJi **for all of her help. Seriously, I would have mucked up the dialogue without her.

**Ladystrider77 **for listening to me complain and helping with ideas and for just being awesome in general.

**The Crimson Wing **for making me lovely art! I heart you!

**And to ALL of my reviewers.** This wouldn't be here if it wasn't for your comments and encouragement. I seriously love you all.

This chapter was completely wiped out by my evil computer a few nights ago. I'm sorry that it was slightly delayed, but I had to rewrite the whole bloody thing. So, without further ado, the last chapter for this fic. Second longest, by the way.

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Fireworks and Finales**

**By: EIW**

"_You're crazy." _

"_No, I'm not. No...I'm __**not**__." Gambol, Joker – __Dark Knight_

* * *

He'd been standing there for hours.

The Joker had only moved a few times, and that was only when he'd needed to go inspire fear into the obnoxiously whimpering patients. These people were so annoying. All that they did was whine and complain, snivel and cry. It was so pathetic. They didn't deserve to be saved, especially by someone like Batman.

The dogs barked in the background. The Joker had chained them up near the hostages so that they'd stay put. The metal chains attached to the dogs would slap and pull against the concrete block as the ravenous animals tried to maul the hospital patients. Saliva and scratch marks littered the floor as the dogs snarled and barked savagely, growling and gnashing their sharp teeth. The Joker ignored the pleas of help from crying people. He was focused intently on the ferry boats and Batman, of course.

His hench-clowns were out piling gasoline and explosives into the ferries. They should be almost done by now. The show was about to start and everything was in place. The Joker was had waited for this a long time. It'd been months in the making, if not years. This fight between two indomitable forces was finally going to erupt. The Joker had waited his whole life for this.

He had been watching and thinking, waiting for the right time. His idea was finally coming to fruition. He was finally going to have a proper showdown with Batman. He'd played with him before, but this, this was different. The Joker could feel it in his bones. This fight was going to be special. He'd prepared for it and gotten things ready, the ferries, Dent, the hospital. It had all been leading up to this. Like an ignited wick of a firework, the explosion would soon happen. It would be sparkling and magnificent and thunderous. Nothing would be able to stop them this time.

This whole dance with Batman was finally going into the final dips and turns. It would be the fastest and most interesting part of the whole number. The Joker hummed a random tune as the sun began to burn lower and lower in the sky. It'd soon be time. The Joker was oddly calm. His hands had stopped shaking, his body was loose and devoid of all stiffness, his entire being was ready and waiting for Batman. His mind was spinning with random thoughts, twirling about and banging together. They all had one common thread. _Batman_.

He stalked back and forth in front of the window. His purple clothes blazed darkly against the orange sunset. His coat would spin about whenever he made a sharp turn. He was glad to have his regular clothes back. He'd missed his coat. The hostages were cowering together as his hench-clowns stumbled upstairs. A few of them had their doctor outfits on, while the others just chattered to one another, ignoring the look that the Joker was sending them. His eyes glowed menacingly as they continued to twitter about with uncaring voices.

The clowns with the most seniority stared in disbelief as the new recruits blatantly ignored the boss. This was not going to be good. The first thing that a hench-clown learned was when to shut the hell up. Second, was that clowns had better behave when the Joker had an 'idea.' They had better carry it out and execute it flawlessly or face the consequences, which usually involved lots of death.

A footnote to rule number two was never **_ever_ **mess about when an 'idea' involved Batman. If a clown messed up during a Batman happening, well, death couldn't come swiftly enough. Bad things happened when people messed about with Batman. Very, _very_ bad things happened.

"What are you _doing_?" The Joker asked his voice grim and harsh. The new hench-clowns stopped talking and stared at the Joker. After a few days of not being killed, some of the clowns had gotten arrogant, convinced that they'd earned their place in the ranks. No one ever earned a place. The other sensible clowns stared almost happily at the scene. New recruits were a nuisance to the old ones. They messed up and caused problems, which of course, involved knives and explosions that ended in very painful deaths. A hench-clowns main goal was not dying. Everything else was an after thought.

The Joker wasn't going to put up with anyone messing up his fight tonight. He'd waited far too long for this. He was going to fight with Batman and play with him and no one was going to mess that up, especially not these little useless clowns.

"Ah, we're getting ready for tonight, boss." A young clown stated flippantly, throwing the question aside as if it was of no importance. The other clowns stared in shock at the gall behind that voice. They looked back and forth between the clowns and the boss, who was absolutely irate. His hands were clenching and stretching in a strangling motion. His black rimmed eyes bore into the twittering clowns, who had resumed their conversation.

"Why," the Joker began, his voice was controlled, but his body language was screaming with obvious rage, "aren't you wearing your outfits?"

"Don't worry, boss, we'll put them on later. We've got plenty of time before Batman gets here anyways." Another young clown said, with a slight attitude. The older hench-clowns backed away towards the hostages, very slowly, so as to not divert their boss's wrath.

They'd said the wrong thing. They were going to die, no question about it. They'd said _that _name. No one said that name, especially not in such context and with such attitude. It was never wise to mention Batman by name. The Joker was shaking with anger as he slowly grabbed a lead pipe from the floor. His hand clenched around it and his glove make a small squeak sound as it gripped the pipe with angry force.

The dogs whined and moved away from the hostages, staring at the scene. They could sense their new master's anger. It radiated off of him in violent waves, crashing with vehemence throughout the room. Not a single hostage made a noise. The only sound was the oblivious hench-clowns' quiet chatter. The Joker rolled his shoulders back and quickly grabbed one of the talkative clowns by the arm and spun him around.

The Joker smashed the lead pipe into the man's head. A look of horror flashed across his face before a blank stare replaced it. He fell to the floor and his arms rose to protect himself. The Joker moved with his knee on the man's chest, effectively keeping him put and swung a couple of more times. Blood began to coat the metal bar and it would fling back in red strands, painting the concrete behind the Joker a dripping red color. Eventually, brain matter oozed out as a final smack landed on the man's skull and cracked it open. Blood and brains spilled onto the floor. The Joker ceased his motions and watched, breathing heavily.

He leaned back slightly and stared at the other young hench-clowns that hadn't moved. The Joker got up and they made a move towards the exit. The Joker snatched one by the coat and yelled at his obedient clowns to get the others. The older clowns smiled under their masks and went after the youngsters. Youth these days, they had no respect.

The Joker pulled the squirming man towards him. He smiled devilishly and stabbed his potato peeler into the man's eye, gauging and ripping various nerves and sensory preceptors. The man screamed and the Joker laughed slightly. His sense of humor was coming back to him. With a final deep gauge, the man's eye popped out and he fell to the floor. The Joker kicked the eye towards the dogs, who promptly ate it.

The man screamed and writhed in agony against the floor, muttering incoherent nonsense as blood streamed out of his eye socket. The Joker walked around him, tilting his head in interest. He suddenly kicked his shoe knife out and slammed it into the man's face. Blood leaked out and the man moved awkwardly around for a few more moments and then stilled.

The Joker took a deep breath, calming his rapid pulse. He didn't want to use up all his energy. He needed to save most of it for Batman, but these clowns were asking for it. Directly disobeying him and talking about Batman like that. As if this fight was theirs. Oh, no. That had been the last straw. How dare they even insinuate that they were on the same level as Batman! The Joker thought in indignation, viciously pulling at his greenish matted hair and trying to kick the blood off of his shoe.

They didn't deserve to even be near him let alone fight the Dark Knight. The Joker would see that they got theirs, ridiculous people with their delusions of their own self-importance. The Joker cracked his neck and tried to regain control over his temper. He needed to be calm so that he could make that call in a few moments. He didn't need this right now, but it had to be taken care of.

No one got in his way when it came to Batman, _no one_.

The Joker sighed deeply. His rage seeped out of him. He glanced out of the window. The sunset was almost over. The sky was a dark red color. It suited the mood quite nicely. The Joker needed to make a call. His boys clanked up the stairs, dragging the three other clowns. The Joker waved his hand as he pulled out his cell phone and said, "Take care of the disobedient ones, boys." The hench-clowns smiled down at the others and grinned under their masks. This was going to be fun. "Just don't make too much of a mess. We're having company." The Joker said over his shoulder as he dialed the number. He pulled out his notebook of notes and cleared his throat.

"Tonight you're all gonna be a part of a social experiment. Thanks to the magic of diesel fuel and ammonium nitrate. I'm ready right now to blow you all sky high." He began, looking at the ferries in the distance. They'd all shut down and were now floating aimlessly in the murky water of the Gotham river, glittering against the almost complete sunset. He told the people the rules and stipulations of the 'experiment' and finished with a line that was sure to get them moving. "Oh, and you might want to decide quickly because the people in the other boat may not be quite so _noble_."

The Joker grinned maniacally at the panic and fear that the people in the boats must be feeling. It made the Joker bounce a bit on his feet. That was fun. His grin stretched and he licked his lips. It was only a waiting game now. All he had to do was get Batman here. He was so close to having his proper fight with Batman. This time the Joker wasn't just going to let Batman drag him around. As good as that felt, this time the Joker planned on playing too. After all, why should he have all the fun? He'd make Batman feel the same things he did.

It was going to be marvelous.

* * *

Darkness was settling in. The night had engulfed the sun with blue, black and purple colored streaks.

The Joker could feel how close Batman was. He was near the building, that was for sure. The Joker just didn't know how the man was going to make his enterance. He always managed to put on quite a spectacle when he appeared. The Joker liked it. It was always something different.

The hench-clowns had dressed the hostages up and were in place. There had been an issue with the guns. The hostages just wouldn't hold them properly, but there wasn't anything that duct tape couldn't fix. The Joker had unchained the dogs. They stood next to him, staring out into the dark water, waiting with him. They were good dogs. They did their jobs and kept quiet. The Joker liked them.

Suddenly, a crash noise swooped into the building. Something was happening. The Joker felt a tingle shimmy up his spine. Batman was here. The Joker smiled ghoulishly in the moonlight. Everything was going perfectly.

Scuffles and smashes echoed throughout the building. The Joker just stared out the window, waiting for the explosion or waiting until he heard Batman, which ever came first. He fidgeted around slightly, moving from one foot to another. His antsy feelings had come back. His earlier calmness now seemed to have dissipated completely. His hands were still not shaking, but that wouldn't last very long.

As soon as Batman was close again, the Joker knew that he'd feel the effects. He just hoped that he had enough control to actually put up a fight this time. Not that it mattered, he'd enjoy himself either way, but he wanted to show Batman that he could do the physical fighting as well as the mental games. He wanted Batman to enjoy the fight as well. The Joker wanted this to be a mutually enjoyable encounter. It made it all the more sensational.

A noise from behind the Joker started him out of his thoughts. He turned his head slightly and grinned as his hands began to twinge and shake. Batman was close. The Joker's adrenaline began to pump furiously into his body, gushing into every fragment of his being. His heart raced and hammered ferociously in his chest. He glanced back towards the ferries.

It was time.

Batman dropped onto the floor and the dogs began to growl. The Joker turned around and licked his lips and grinned crookedly. "Oh you made it. I'm so _thrilled_." He said, completely genuinely. He was beyond thrilled. He was elated, ecstatic, beyond delighted. The Joker began to walk towards Batman. His skin tingled the closer he got. His head began to fill with silence, but the Joker pulled his mute thoughts back to the surface, willing them to clamor together. He wanted to play for real this time and he needed his wits to do it.

"Where's the detonator?" Batman growled out. His voice was mesmerizing and the Joker pulled himself out of the depths of hypnotic buzzing noise in his head and flipped his switchblade. He gripped the knife tightly to keep his hands from shaking. He motioned towards Batman and told his dogs, "Go get him."

The dogs pounced on Batman, pushing him closer to the shaft. The Dark Knight managed to fling one off and down the elevator shaft. The Joker growled and rushed forwards, slamming and stabbing Batman with the lead pipe and knife. He knew that the Kevlar and padding would keep Batman safe, but it was nice to hear the smacking noises as his blows landed. It was exhilarating to be so close, to be able to actually _touch _him. The Joker's body was tingling viciously, making it feel like pinpricks were stabbing him throughout his body.

The Joker was beyond happy.

Batman planted a foot against the Joker's chest and pushed him off. He tossed the last two dogs off the edge and got up slowly. The Joker grabbed his lead pipe and smashed it against Batman's head. He was stunned for a moment. The Joker laughed as Batman fell into a net and landed on the ground, wiggling about, trying to get free of the net. The Joker straddled him and attempted to restrain Batman. It was intoxicating to have such control of the situation, to have such control over Batman. Stabbing him in the side, the Joker said in a singsong voice, "All the old familiar places." He'd mapped out every part of Batman's body. He'd replayed the interrogation room scene in his head endlessly. The Joker could mentally picture every crevice and every muscle in the Bat's body, but nothing can compare to actually _touching _him.

Batman quickly gained the upper hand as the Joker relished in the feeling of having Batman all to himself. Caught slightly off guard, the Joker got pushed off. He landed on his back and skid across the room. Batman moved around in a confused motion. The glowing blue lights in the eyes of his mask were blinking on and off. The Joker smiled happily, he'd probably done some damage to Batman's expensive toy. Oh, well. The Dark Knight would get some new ones later. He always did.

The Joker sat up quickly and grabbed his pipe again. This thing had sure come in handy today. He gripped it tightly and cracked Batman in the head with it, sending him flying through the random window. The Joker loved the sound of breaking glass. It always meant destruction. He was having so much fun. Batman was just as incoherent as he'd been in the interrogation room. The tables were flipped. It was such an intense feeling being so close to the other.

The Joker straddled Batman again, trying to get him to quit fidgeting. A cross beam was in the way of their faces and the Joker knocked it out, causing the beam to fall and pin Batman, which in turn, stopped his movements. Most of them anyways, Batman was still squirming and moving under the Joker, but he wasn't concerned. It was marvelous to feel how alive Batman was, how strong he was. It was threatening to overpower the Joker's senses, but he kept control, willing himself to hold out and pay attention.

It was almost midnight.

"We really need to stop this fighting or we're going to miss the fireworks." The Joker said, getting very close to Batman's face. The Joker's body was screaming from all the contact that he was having with Batman. His hands were twitching and his legs were entwining unconsciously with his arch-nemesis's black clad ones. The Joker was fully content at that moment. His life had never been more perfect. Not even that night at the police station could compare to how he was feeling right then.

"There won't be any fireworks." Batman growled slightly breathless. The beam was obstructing his breathing. The Joker felt the vibrations of his deep voice in the man's chest. The Joker's head began to swim with flurried thoughts before he quickly reigned them back in. He'd have time to do that later. He could think all about tonight another time. Right now, this moment, was all the was important.

The Joker looked out towards the ferries and said, "And here we..._go_." His hands gestured at the last word and his voice was gravelly from all the strain that it was taking to make coherent words come out of his mouth. The Joker always got tangled up when he spoke around Batman. His mind just wouldn't function properly. It liked to remain dull and soak up every feeling and memorize every action. The Joker jostled his brain and glanced from the ferries to the clock. What was happening?  
**  
**"What were you trying to prove? That deep down everyone's exactly like you?" Batman said harshly. Staring at the Joker with an unfathomable emotion in his eyes, Batman watched him. The Joker _loved _when Batman did that. He fidgeted slightly and stared at the ferries again.

The Joker flung the pipe away. These people were completely useless. They were not going to ruin his explosion. The Joker wanted to see Batman's face when all those people died. He wanted to watch the Dark Knight's brown eyes as they filled with anger as the pathetic unworthy citizens were blown to pieces. He wanted to be there when Batman felt that tirade of emotion. Batman's gasping gravelly voice said, "You're alone."

The Joker ignored him. No he wasn't and Batman knew it. They were in this together. They weren't alone. Not when they had each other. Batman's eyes looked at the Joker, telling him the truth while his voice said nothing of importance. Batman spouted overly rehearsed lines that were only spoken because they _should_ be. Batman didn't often mean anything that he said. The Joker noticed that his eyes always told the truth, always said the things that the Dark Knight couldn't say because he was a hero, because he was the perfect hero.

The Joker understood and said gruffly, "You can't rely on anyone these days. You gotta do everything yourself. Don't we?" They did have to do everything. Batman had to deal with all the criminals, the ones that the police should be able to handle. The Joker had to deal with all the utterly sickening organization of the city, bring it down to a better, more chaotic place. No one else was of any use. They were irrelevant, dispensable. The Joker pulled out the detonator.

"That's ok, I came prepared." He pressed a button to activate the controls. He looked down at Batman, staring into his eyes, knowing that this moment was going to be ruined in a few minutes. He could hear the SWAT teams marching and banging about. They weren't too stealth-like.

"It's a funny world we live in." The Joker said, taking in every feature of Batman, "Speaking of which, you know how I got these scars?" He asked indicating his mouth. His grin crawled up his cheeks as Batman began to squirm under him again.

"No, but I know how you got these." Batman said loudly, the blades propelled off of his arm guard and hit the Joker's face, knocking him backwards slightly.

_Ow_, the Joker thought vaguely before he felt Batman grip him by the vest and fling him off the building. The Joker laughed as the falling sensation flopped his stomach around. His skin was burning from his contact with Batman. It was stiflingly too hot and the whirling wind made the Joker's face cool off. They'd been _so_ close. The Joker's brain was overloaded by all the stimulus, between Batman and the fall. It was glowing happily, replaying the fight and talk with _his _Batman again. The Joker laughed hysterically as the pavement got closer and closer.

Then he felt his foot got a rope slung around it. His fall stopped abruptly. The Joker looked around as he was heaved upwards, flapping his arms slightly. Batman had saved him, just as he saved everyone in the city. The Joker had thought that Batman was going to kill him. Batman saved everyone else. That wasn't anything special, but it would have meant something if Batman had killed him, if he'd broken his one rule for _him_. He stuck his lip out slightly as he was hoisted up.

The look on Batman's face was enough to soothe the Joker's sporadic thoughts. Batman looked upset at this situation. The Joker swung around, enjoying the rushing feeling as his blood ran towards his head. He dangled in and out of reach as his coat floated around aimlessly. "Ah... You... you just couldn't let me go, could you. This is what happens when an unstoppable force meets an immovable object. You truly are incorruptible aren't you?" The Joker said, looking at Batman's perfect face. He'd finally met his match. They were genuinely flawless for one another. This was meant to be. They'd do this forever.

Perhaps, Batman needed that reiterated. He looked out of sorts. Maybe, he'd just realized what the Joker was to him when he'd fallen, when he'd been about to lose him. It was possible. Batman wasn't always the quickest person. He may not have realized how important and invaluable the Joker was to him before the fall. It must be a revelation of sorts to fully understand their relationship for the first time, to fully acknowledge that the one holds power over the other, that they couldn't live without the other. It'd be pointless to have a dark without a light. They were stuck together forever and from the look in Batman's eyes. He'd finally excepted that. The Joker's chest felt compressed and his blood was pumping viciously in his veins. His body ached for another hit, another punch, anything. He just needed to have that contact again, that monstrously addicting contact.

"You won't kill me out of some misplaced sense of self-righteousness, and I won't kill you because you're just too much fun." The Joker said all of this with true sentiment. He would never kill Batman and Batman would never kill him. They were at a stalemate. This would continue on forever. The Joker liked the sound of forever.

"I think you and I are destined to do this _forever_." The Joker said this as if it were a promise, a vow. Batman was injured. The Joker could see that his adrenaline was running low. His wounds were beginning to ache. The Joker was happy to see that Batman would remember this night. He'd have tons of scars and scraps to look at. The Joker was beyond thrilled that he'd made his mark. So, that if another villain came up while he was in Arkham, they'd know that this was the Joker's arch-nemesis. He wasn't up for the taking. He belonged to someone already. Batman could play with them and capture them, but it wouldn't be the same. Batman was the Joker's and vice versa. Everyone should know that now.

"You'll be in a padded cell forever." Batman growled, holding his left side. The Joker couldn't help but smile. "Maybe we could share one. You know they'll be doubling up the rate this cities inhabitants are losing their minds." He said gesturing widely. He loved talking to Batman. Batman's words grabbed onto the Joker's mind and wouldn't let go. He could always replay one of their conversations verbatim. His voice was so easy to follow and their conversations always had good flow. It was nice to have chemistry with someone.

"This city just showed you that it's full of people ready to believe in good." Batman said, completely confident that he'd won. He looked so proud of himself that the Joker almost felt bad telling him the next bit.

"'Till their spirit breaks completely. 'Till they get a good look at the real Harvey Dent, hah, and all the heroic things he's done. You didn't think I'd risk losing the battle for Gotham's soul in a fistfight with you?" As much fun as their little skirmish had been, it was by no means his way of winning the city. He needed Batman to remember him after he was locked up. The Joker would escape eventually, but until then, Batman needed to remember the Joker. He needed to see daily reminders. The Joker grinned vicotoriously as he hammered in the details. "No... You need an Ace in the hole. Mine's Harvey."

Batman looked at the Joker in shock and dread, "What did you do?" the Joker loved the way that Batman had asked that question. He was confused and impressed about how great this idea of the Joker's had been. Maybe not outwardly impressed, but he could see the awe in Batman's eyes as he realized how complex the situation was.

The look on _his _Batman's face was too precious. He had to explain himself, "I took Gotham's White Knight and I brought him down to our level. It wasn't hard. You know how madness is, it's like gravity. All it takes is a little push." He said and swung away as he watched Batman rush off, finally aware of how severe the situation was.

The Joker couldn't contain himself.

He laughed as the SWAT team came up, guns ready to fire. Looking horrified at the demented clown that hung upside down. He laughed as they pulled him down, he laughed as they arrested him, he laughed as they dragged him to the van, and he laughed as they drove him off into the night.

* * *

The Joker's laugh filled the white padded walls of Arkham.

His throat ached with protest, but the Joker just kept on. Batman would remember him. There was no doubt. Now all he had to do was wait it out. It wouldn't be a problem. Batman was more than worth the time here; their game was more than worth it. They had the rest of their lives to play. A few months was nothing in the end. He would wait an eternity to play with Batman again.

The Joker smiled fiendishly as a psychologist scuffled in. Hm… the Joker wondered, what should I tell them this time? He propped himself up on his bed and waited patiently for the man to begin to question him.

"So, do you know why you're here?" The man asked, clearly uninterested.

The Joker nodded to himself and leaned his head against the wall. He spoke with emotion in his voice.

"Yea, I'm here because of the Batman."

The Joker's interesting tone didn't catch the man's attention and he stared at his clipboard and wrote something down in a bored manner.

"Who is Batman to you? Do you fear him? Are you angry with him? What is your association with him?" The doctor asked questions rapidly and in a rehearsed way. They must get a lot of people that say that.

"He's..." the Joker said, thinking to himself, trying to find the words to describe what Batman was to him.

"He's mine."

The man looked up from his clipboard and stared. "Yours?" He questioned with a disbelieving tone. The Joker guessed that he didn't hear that too often.

"Yeah, he's mine. My arch-nemesis, the light to my dark, my other half, my whatever you want to call it." The Joker said, gesturing wildly with his hands and growled out, "The point is the Batman is _mine_."

He finished and looked smugly at the startled man.

"Yes, well, I'm sure that Batman doesn't feel the same. You killed a lot of people." The psychologist tried to regain control of the conversation. He adjusted his glasses slightly. The Joker stared at him as he thought of a hundred different way to kill this man with his own glasses. His eyes glittered with venom.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that. Batman knows." The Joker said, leaning against the wall again with his arms behind his head.

"Batman knows what?" The man questioned.

"He just _knows_. And trust me, the feeling is mutual." The Joker said this and licked his lips. They felt odd with out his make-up. He felt odd without it, but it was for a good cause. It was for him and Batman. It was necassary. Batman was stuck out in the normal world without anyone to play with, without anyone to challenge him. The least the Joker could do was suffer through this.

He wondered if he'd get any visits from the Dark Knight, especially now that he was an outlaw. Maybe they'd catch him and lock him up too. Then they could be together, without the masks and without people interrupting. It was a nice thought. The Joker smiled as the man kept asking questions, his indignation rising every moment when he realized that he was being ignored. The Joker tuned the man's irratating voice out as it buzzed around in his head. He leaned his head back and closed his unpainted eyes as he languidly replayed his few moments with Batman again and again and again...

* * *

**_Fin_**

* * *

**Please review!** It's the last time after all, for this fic at least.

Thanks very much for reading. I'm beyond grateful to anyone that reviewed any of my chapters. This was an absolutely astounding response. I truly did not belive that I would get any reviews when I posted this. So, thank you very much! I love all of you.

Hugs and love,

-EIW


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